


it all comes back to you

by scarlettroses



Series: How To Get Free Cake [1]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bakery and Coffee Shop, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Is that a tag??, M/M, Past Abuse, Sad Backstories, my boys just want some cake, so much cursing i’m very sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-02-26 13:59:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13237206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarlettroses/pseuds/scarlettroses
Summary: “Davey really does tell himself that this is ridiculous and he definitely should not go along with it. So, how he ends up rolling his eyes, sliding on the engagement ring and preparing to go lie his way into some free cake, he's really not entirely sure.”-Jack comes across a flyer advertising free cake samples to all engaged couples, but he’s missing one important thing: a fiancé.He does, however, have Davey, a fake ring, and a lot of enthusiasm.





	1. easy as pie (or cake?)

**Author's Note:**

> well, i’m trying out a chaptered fic! here’s to hoping i can update it in some kind of reasonable time frame...
> 
> no warnings for this one, just a good wholesome time, at least as far as right now!

David Jacobs honestly just wants one day where Jack doesn't drag him into a mountain of metaphorical bullshit.

One day- is that really too much to ask? Apparently it is. Davey sometimes thinks he's come across the rare kind of day that he can avoid being coerced into something completely stupid, and sometimes it really does seem that way until about one o'clock in the afternoon. Sadly, that's usually where things start to go downhill.

See, Jack will often have a morning meeting at his office, so he'll leave their shared apartment pretty early in the morning and Davey won't even see him until the afternoon. With Jack working in graphic design at a fashion magazine, he can basically work when and wherever he wants, as long as he makes it to a few meetings a week and keeps on top of his emails. Davey works throughout the week as a veterinary assistant and takes weekends off, so chaos tends to ensue on these Saturday afternoons.

Jack's relaxed work schedule not only keeps him sane, but leaves him a lot of time for screwing around. More often than not, this involves dragging his unfortunate best friend right into it. It's wholesome, really, a bonding experience to help them grow closer as friends. Or… y’know, _more_.

Take, for example, the extraordinary events that transpired in the few weeks leading up to Sarah and Katherine's wedding...

 

-

 

_Three weeks to the wedding_

The front door of the apartment slams open with a bang.

"Hey Davey!" Jack doesn't even take the time to set down his keys or take off his jacket, he just comes sock-sliding into the living room as soon as his shoes are off to announce whatever it is that's on his mind. As per usual, it's somewhat interesting but completely idiotic. "I have a genius plan to get some free cake!"

This may or may not pique Davey's interest. Sure, this is bound to be another ridiculous Jack Kelly plan, and be either incredibly simple and stupid or entirely too complicated, but basically every human being out there has a weak spot for some good cake. And for _free_? Davey would be a fool to let an opportunity like this walk right by him.

"Free cake?" he parrots back, not really looking up from his laptop. "How's that?"

If Jack suggests stealing it, Davey's honest-to-god going to slap the shit out of him. He's been spending too much time around Race lately and it's starting to show.

Jack wordlessly shoves a paper into Davey's face. Once Davey can peel it away from his eyes and actually _read_ it, he swears he's never rolled his eyes harder than in this moment.

 

_Free wedding cake samples for all engaged couples, this month only at Little Bird Cakes and Baking!_

 

"Jack..." sighs Davey, now just annoyed that he'd gotten his own hopes of free cake up. "This clearly says it's for engaged couples. We've both been single for how long now? How do you expect that this flyer applies to either of us?"

Jack's mischievous expression doesn't falter. He just flops down next to Davey on the sofa and pokes him in the cheek with his pointer finger.

"We'll be engaged. Or... y'know, pretend to be. We just whack on a fake ring, hold hands a little, and eat cake! I'm telling you, Dave, this is _genius_! What better to do on a Saturday afternoon, right?"

Davey finally closes his laptop and takes a very exasperated deep breath in and out. They've been best friends since freshman year and he should really be used to shit like this, but Jack still somehow always manages to surprise him.

"Are you actually insane?" he asks, but that's a stupid question because Jack just smiles and nods. Davey rolls his eyes. "Okay... why _me_? Why don't you ask, like, Kath?"

Jack stares Davey down with the most unamused expression he's seen in a long time.

"You think I should ask my ex-girlfriend..." he deadpans, his words dripping with sarcasm, "who's about to _marry_ my other ex-girlfriend who happens to be my best friend's sister... to be my fake fiancé so we can con a bakery into giving us free cake?"

Well, when you put it _that_ way...

"Yeah," says Davey with a shrug, and Jack smacks him on the arm. "Sounds like a usual Jack Kelly type of plan to me."

Jack just tips over dramatically so that he's lying on his back on the couch, throwing his feet over Davey's lap. He stretches like a cat and Davey has to suppress a laugh.

"Come on, Dave!" he whines. "It'll be fun! How come you never let me have any fun?"

Davey rolls his eyes.

"Where are you even going to get a ring? That's kind of important."

Jack sits up so fast that he needs to take a second to reorient himself.

"I thought this through, Jacobs," he says, suddenly producing an elaborately engraved silver ring from his pocket. Davey just blinks because of course Jack has this all figured out. " _Five_ bucks at the pawn shop on the walk home," he continues. "I think it's technically a toe ring, at least that's what the guy told me. But who wears toe rings anyways? It'll work."

Davey does tell himself that this is ridiculous and he definitely should not go along with it. So, how he ends up rolling his eyes, sliding on the engagement ring and preparing to go lie his way into some free cake, he's really not entirely sure.

 

-

 

"We need a backstory," says Davey as he and Jack leave their apartment building and step out into the chilly November air. "How long have we been together? Who proposed? And when? When's the wedding?"

Jack scoffs, bumping Davey's shoulder while they walk.

"Obviously, I proposed," he says and then hums in thought as he creates a story. "It was a... Sunday night. Maybe last month? We went to, uh, a pumpkin patch... and I got you alone in the garden and popped the question. And see, it's believable because we really did go to a pumpkin patch with everyone last month!"

Davey can't stop himself from laughing at the sheer craziness of this situation, but he nods in agreement.

"Maybe we should keep sticking to things that are almost true," he offers. "Like, we did meet in high school. Maybe we were secretly in love all along, and realized it after we graduated?"

Something unreadable flashes across Jack's face at that, but he recovers quickly and nods.

"Yeah, that sounds... realistic." His tone has gone a little strange and he ruffles Davey's hair to distract him. He's back to normal when he chuckles: "Look at us, a couple of star-crossed lovers. Let's have a spring wedding, how 'bout?"

Davey, in a bold move, pecks a kiss on Jack's cheek and throws an arm around his shoulders.

"Sounds perfect," he says, beaming internally at the way Jack is trying to hide the fact that he's blushing. He's not sure where this sudden burst of confidence came from, but he's just going to roll with it. "Lots of flowers, twinkly lights, I can see it already. Me an' you, getting hitched."

Both of them laugh as they continue down the sidewalk. They've gravitated much closer together since they left their building, now basically pressed together. They probably look like a real couple, actually. The ring and all- any passerby could perfectly reasonably assume that Jack and Davey are actual fiancés.

Davey's not too sure what to make of that.

 

-

 

The little bell above the door of the bakery jingles as the boys walk in. It's adorably decorated, lots of pastel colours and floral patterns. Davey instantly feels a rush of anxiety, but Jack's grip on his hand calms it a little.

"Welcome to Little Bird Bakery!" chirps the guy behind the counter, who's balancing on elbow crutches and grinning like the sun. "Anything in particular that you guys are looking for today?"

Thank god for Jack's confidence, because Davey would've choked right then and there.

"We're actually here about the wedding cake samples," says Jack, smoothly, and Davey momentarily becomes concerned with how easily that kid can lie. "We saw the flyer!"

The kid on crutches, whose name tag reads Charlie lights up excitedly.

"Oh, awesome!" he says, starting to make his way around the counter and out to the main area. "You guys can just sit at whatever table. I'll bring out the booklet of flavours and you can start figuring out what you're interested in trying!"

Jack and Davey exchange eye contact that can only be described as _mischievous_ while Charlie pauses to reach under one of the back cupboards. This is working. God, it's stupid, but it's working.

"So," starts Charlie as he brings them the book, still smiling brightly. "When's the big day?"

Davey looks to Jack and smiles. He can handle this one, at least.

"We're thinking in March, but nothing's set in stone just yet," he says, taking the gentlemanly route of pulling Jack's chair out for him. Jack sits, still smiling back at Davey. It's crazy how well he pulls off the whole _in-love_ thing. "My sister is getting married right away, so we wanted to give it some time in between. Keep it a little easier on my parents, y'know?"

As it turns out, lying isn't that hard when there's a promise of free cake. This is so much easier than Davey had expected.

"Ah, gotcha," says Charlie, laying the little pamphlet of cake flavours and designs on the table. "Did you two just get engaged?"

Davey notices Charlie's eyes flick to the ring on his finger and almost wants to laugh at the fact that they're _actually_ doing this.

"Almost a month," says Jack, reaching a hand over to intertwine with Davey's. "It's a little early for cake ideas, but hey, we couldn't really turn down free samples, right?"

All three of them laugh in that _nothing was very funny but we're all trying to make a good impression_ sort of way. Jack picks up the booklet and slides a little closer to Davey to start looking. Charlie takes that as his cue to get back to the counter, in case another customer should come in.

"Just give me a shout when you've picked ten flavours you'd like to try," he says, brushing some non-existent dust from his apron, "and I'll bring them by!"

Let the cake-eating begin.

 

-

 

"Holy shit." Jack's mouth is full of a bite of pale green, key lime cake. "This is so fucking good."

Davey snorts as he brushes the crumbs of green cake from Jack's chin.

"I can tell," he says through giggles. "You're looking at it the way you should be looking at me." He sighs dramatically. "I can't believe I'm losing my man before we can even get married."

They're playing it up- intensely so. They're calling each other _baby_ and _sweetie_ and _sugar_ , courtesy of Jack, who once portrayed Clyde in a community production of Bonnie and Clyde and never dropped the iconic nickname from his vocabulary.

This is going incredibly well, though. Charlie's buying it completely, and any other customers passing through have been smiling at them kindly. And the cake is so good. It's absolutely worth the stress of completely fabricating a relationship.

Jack takes a bit of the key lime cake on a fork and holds it up to Davey's mouth.

"Try it, babe," he says, still talking through a full mouth. He smiles with green-tinted teeth and Davey's not sure why it makes his heart flutter a little.

"You're disgusting," mumbles Davey, but he takes the bite anyways and wow, Jack was right. This is the fourth flavour they've tried and each is somehow better than the last.

When Davey looks up, Charlie is suddenly there, smiling again.

"How's everything tasting so far?"

Davey and Jack both face each other with mouths full of food and instantly dissolve into laughter, simply managing to shoot Charlie a thumbs-up.

"Good," chokes Davey, after forcing himself to swallow more food at once than he probably should. "Great, actually. This is incredible."

Jack nods along, leaning over to hide his face in Davey's neck while he laughs too hard to swallow.

Charlie looks between the two of them and smiles.

"You guys are adorable," he says, mostly to Davey because Jack is shaking with giggles. "You make a really great couple."

This just makes Jack laugh even harder, and Davey has to try to keep it cool, patting Jack fondly on the shoulder.

"Thanks," says Davey, using every force inside himself not to laugh. They might be a little too good at this pretending thing. "That means a lot, man."

 

-

 

Every _Jack Kelly Plan_ has a moment where everything goes to shit. It's inevitable. Something goes wrong, every single time.

Now, this plan's fatal flaw was that if they were to see anyone they know, they're screwed. Fortunately, not many of their friends are in the market for a wedding cake right at this moment. Spot and Race are already married, which they'd done in Vegas without warning anyone. All their other couple friends are just dating, as far as right now, save for Sarah and Katherine.

Can we see where this is headed?

Naturally, with Davey and Jack's horrible luck here to bite them in the ass, they come to find out that this particular bakery is where Sarah and Katherine are ordering their cake from. And that their last appointment for the final details of their cake is... today.

Jack and Davey don't even look up when the bell on the door rings, too enthralled with the vanilla-coffee swirl cake slice in front of them.

It takes a solid minute for the boys to be spotted, but it's like a slow-motion movie scene when Sarah says: "David?" and moments later, Katherine says: " _Jack_?"

Both boys instantly go pale.

_Shit_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come visit me on tumblr, my URL is thefactsofthematter! :)))


	2. there’s a moment you know, you’re fucked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> life advice with davey jacobs: if all else fails, grab your shit and run. 
> 
> or, my poor boys are awkward and way too good at lying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only warning for this one is a vague-ish mention of jack’s homophobic parents, very brief!
> 
> i’m currently realizing that basically every plot point in this story is being motivated by very stupid decisions?? but honestly it’s davey and jack, what else could you expect?

Have you ever been so panicked that you can't even get a word out?

That's about how Jack and Davey are feeling in this moment.

Katherine and Sarah walk over and Davey can see them putting the strange puzzle pieces of this situation together. The cake samples, the way Jack is leaning into Davey's side, and then it happens... Sarah's eyes land on the ring on Davey's finger.

"Oh my _God_ ," she says, as her jaw drops and she grabs Davey's wrist, wrenching his arm so she can show the ring to Kath. "These assholes are _engaged_!"

Davey gapes like a fish for a long moment. Kath and Sarah are both staring at him, waiting for answers and, well, he's got nothing.

"Uh..." starts Jack, and Davey thanks all that's holy for his best friend's quick thinking. "Yeah, we are."

Never mind. Davey mentally facepalms and then mentally punches Jack in his idiotic face.

"I think I'm gonna _cry_!" squeals Katherine, bouncing on her toes and squeezing Sarah's arm. "I always knew you guys were together! I totally called it! You were so obvious!"

Wait... _what_? Davey immediately starts thinking back on his and Jack's friendship and it dawns on him how Kath might have thought that. They've always been touchy, and they've lived together since they graduated high school. Jack's a flirt with everyone he talks to, but he's extra comfortable with Davey so he lays it on thick. Davey, in turn, like to throw it right back. He's starting to see how that could be misinterpreted.

"Why didn't you tell us?" questions Sarah, and Davey feels himself start to sweat. As excited as she sounds, he can tell she's hurt too. "How long have you been together?"

Davey looks to Jack, who's wearing a worried expression to match his own. It's too late to backpedal now, because Charlie is watching curiously from behind the counter. If they give up the lie now, they'll be found out, and never welcome at this bakery again. Not to mention, that would be _incredibly_ embarrassing.

"It's been... uh, since we went on that road trip after high school," says Davey, narrowly avoiding a nervous voice crack and sticking to their predetermined story. They'll just tell the truth later, it'll all be fine. "Y'know, to Santa Fe?"

Jack nods quickly. His face has gone quite pale and he's crushing the bones in Davey's hand.

"We, uh, just kept it between us," adds Jack, who's either a really good actor or actually freaking the hell out. "That's on me... I kinda get scared with the whole _coming-out_ thing."

Sarah's eyes go wide like she instantly regrets interrogating them. She, as well as Kath and Davey, remember what happened in freshman year when Jack's parents caught him kissing a boy. They don't talk about it much now, but it had involved Jack being moved into foster care, which is an entirely different can of worms that they don't need to open. Sarah and Kath don't quite know the extent of the anxiety Jack's faced since then, but Davey knows damn well that it could be a viable reason for them not to tell about their hypothetical relationship.

"We were gonna tell you soon, though," throws in Davey. "With getting engaged and all- we were really gonna tell the next time we saw you."

Jack makes a little noise of agreement, nodding at Davey's statement.

The next few seconds drag on for what feels like a million years, but Sarah finally puts her hand on Davey's shoulder and smiles.

"I'm really happy for you guys," she says, and relief washes over Davey like a tidal wave. Good things never last, though, because the panic comes rushing back with her next words. "I need to call Mom!"

Jack sits bolt upright and Davey's eyes go wide.

"I don't know-" starts Jack, frantically, but Kath grabs his free hand and smiles sympathetically. Why does she always have to be so nice?

"Oh, Jack," she says, genuine concern on her face. "You know Esther and Mayer are going to be so good about it. They accepted me and Sarah just fine, and they already know Davey's gay. There's nothing to worry about."

Jack opens and closes his mouth, stuck, because as comforting as that was, that's not the problem here. Lying to Sarah and Kath is bad enough, but dragging Davey's _parents_ into it? That's _way_ too far.

"Don't you have a wedding cake to worry about?" asks Davey, in a weak attempt to distract the girls. "Poor Charlie over there is waiting!"

Of course, Charlie has to wave and throw in: "Oh no, it's fine!" He grins and Davey sort of wants to murder him. "I have no bookings for the rest of the afternoon, you can take your time!"

Sarah is pulling out her phone and Davey's blood pressure is skyrocketing. He shoots her a look that clearly screams _stop_ , but she just rolls her eyes. He looks to Jack, who also has no idea what to do. In a moment of panic, Davey just shoves another bite of cake in his mouth so that maybe he won't have to answer any more questions.

Upon observing this, Kath frowns and asks: "Why are you guys looking at wedding cakes, anyways? If you haven't even told anyone you're together?"

Davey laughs awkwardly through a mouthful of cake and Jack winces.

"We just wanted cake," admits Jack. At least there's something that's true. "We saw the flyer and wanted to take advantage. I didn't buy a ring for nothing."

Katherine snorts and smacks Jack upside the head.

"You absolute losers," she giggles, before stealing the last bite of the last slice. She pulls a chair up to sit at Davey and Jack's table, prompting Sarah to do the same.

Speaking of Sarah, her phone is now pressed to her ear. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._

"Mom!" she says, grinning at Davey in a way that would seem friendly to anyone else, but he knows is evil. He mouths _don't_ , but she, of course, ignores him. "Hi... yeah, ok... oh, Mom, you're never going to guess the news I've got for you!"

She wiggles her eyebrows at Davey, and he's never felt a stronger desire to physically fight his own sister. He could be eight years old again, pulling her hair and screaming at her.

"Davey and Jack got engaged!" she squeals into the phone. "...I know, that's what I said! Apparently they've been together for _five years_ and they never told anyone."

Davey and Jack look at each other with wide eyes, having a mental conversation of _what the fuck do we do?_

In what’s probably a horrible decision, Davey decides to treat this how he treats all his problems. He glances at Sarah, who’s still on the phone, looks back to Jack and whispers: “Run!”

And they do. They stand up, grab their jackets and hightail it out of that bakery without looking back at the girls.

“Thanks for the cake, Charlie!” calls Jack, already halfway out the door. “It was great, we’ll be back soon!”

And then Jack grabs Davey’s hand and they run, laughing like madmen, through the streets of Manhattan. They don’t stop until they reach Central Park, where they can collapse onto a bench and try to catch their breath.

“Oh my god…” croaks Davey. He hasn’t laughed this hard in a long time, it’s like he can’t even suck air into his lungs. “Did we really… just… do that?”

Jack is apparently having an equally hard time controlling his laughter because he just nods and wheezes. Upon looking closer, Davey realizes that there are actual tears on Jack’s cheeks.

“This is such a mess,” Jack finally manages, leaning over to laugh into Davey’s shoulder. “I just wanted cake…”

Davey pats Jack’s head and keeps on giggling.

“This is why I never listen to you,” he says, sort of joking but mostly serious. “You get us into shit like this!”

Somehow, Davey’s not even that mad about it. Like, the cake was _really_ good. Maybe it was worth it.

-

“Oh God, my mom’s calling,” whines Davey, staring at his phone in horror. They’ve been wandering Central Park for a while,burning off all the cake calories. “What do I do?”

Jack fish-mouths for a second but then shakes his head and sets his shoulders. That’s a man with a plan if Davey’s ever seen one.

“You answer, and you tell the truth,” says Jack, firmly. “And then we call your sister and tell _her_ the truth. And this whole mess is over.”

Davey nods. He can do that. With a deep breath, he presses accept on the call.

He does not expect his mother to be crying.

“Mom?”

“Oh, David…” She’s actually crying. Oh god. “I wish you would’ve told us sooner, but I’m still so happy for you. My baby is growing up so fast…”

Davey blinks, caught off guard. Now would a good time to not be cripplingly socially awkward. He can’t just _ruin_ this moment, even if the moment is based entirely off of a lie.

“Uh, thanks, Ma,” he says, before pulling his phone away from his ear, frantically mouthing a string of curse words to Jack, and resuming the conversation. “That means a lot.”

Davey cringes at the cwords coming out of his mouth but he can’t stop them. He squeaks when Jack smacks him hard on the shoulder.

“Stop!” whispers Jack. “Tell the truth, you idiot!”

“You two have to come over for dinner sometime soon, alright dear?” continues Esther. “I just have to see the ring!”

Davey is now cringing so hard that it’s a full-body experience, but he’s so awkward that he can’t bring himself to say anything but: “Sure! We’ll see you then!” and then immediately turn to Jack and whisper: “ _Fuckfuckfuckfuck_.”

Jack is cringing just as hard as Davey now. Davey can do nothing but curse his own awkwardness and hope that his telepathic apologies are reaching Jack.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” asks Esther. “You sound stressed, dear.”

Yeah, that’s one way to put it.

“Yeah, I’m just… uh, on the train!” he says, and proceeds to make a noise that he hopes resembles static. “The call is breaking up!” More static noise. “I’ll call you back later!”

Davey hangs up the call and resists the urge to throw his phone at the ground.

“Davey…” says Jack, who seems relatively amused, but also wholly disappointed. “What _was_ that?”

Davey hides his face in his hands and shakes his head.

“I don’t _know_ ,” he says, completely exasperated with himself. “I panicked! She was crying! What was I supposed to do, break her heart!?”

Jack just scoffs, and he’s got that heart-eyes look on his face again, which Davey doesn’t really understand because there’s no one around that they’re trying to convince.

“Alright, relax,” says Jack, shaking his head and somehow still smiling. “We’ll figure it out. How about we go home, call her back, and explain? As long as no one else gets dragged into this, we’ll be fine.”

-

They’re not going to be fine.

Word spreads. Fast.

Esther must have called Medda, Jack’s foster mother, who proceeded to call Jack. Jack, of course, panics and ignores it. This results in Medda calling her other foster children: Spot and Smalls, to see if they know where Jack is, so she can congratulate him on his engagement.

Naturally, Spot and Smalls call Jack, confused and delighted. They tell their friends, who tell _their_ friends, and by the time Jack and Davey get home, they’ve each got several dozen _congratulations_ texts and missed calls.

It’ll be a miracle if they can work their way out of this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos and comments are greatly appreciated, and feel free to head over to my tumblr if you’d like! (thefactsofthematter) :D


	3. just make the most of it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> life advice with jack kelly: if you fuck literally everything up, at least use it to prank your friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note:  
> I’ve changed it now, but if you read Chapter 2 right when I posted it, you would’ve seen Elmer as one of Jack’s foster siblings! (thanks to a weird little headcanon and an abandoned wip of mine :p)  
> While writing this chapter, I changed how I wanted my characters set up. Jack’s only siblings in this fic are Spot and Smalls (credit to @spotsies on tumblr for the Jack/Smalls sibling hc), because I found another way I wanted to work Elmer in! 
> 
> That’s all! Enjoy!
> 
> Also this is unedited and I’m very tired so if the scenes don’t flow very well I’m really sorry!

"I think..." Jack pauses to sigh heavily. He's sitting on the couch in their apartment with his head in his hands, as he has been for a while. "I think we just need to roll with it for now."

Davey groans, but Jack's right. There's basically no way out— too many people know. They can’t exactly just tell everyone they were pretending to be engaged.

"And then what?" asks Davey, who's sprawled out in an armchair. "We break up after a while? Try and pull the whole _we’re better as friends_ thing?”

Jack is quiet for a second, probably considering the idea, and then he shrugs.

“I guess so.” He shakes his head and rubs his eyes. “God, I’m sorry, Dave. This is a goddamn mess.”

Davey just rolls his eyes. Yeah, this is weird and insane, but it’s also _hilarious_. Who the hell else could manage to wrap themselves up in a situation like this?

“Look on the bright side,” offers Davey with a chuckle. “I don’t know how, but this could probably be a lot worse. We already live together, so there’s one perk. And, hey, if I had to pick a fake fiancé, it would definitely be you.”

Jack finally sits up and as stressed-out as he looks, he manages to crack a smile.

“I guess I’d hafta pick you too,” he says. “No one else can put up with my stupid ideas. And you can sort of cook sometimes, which I guess is alright.”

To say that Davey can _sort of_ cook is a very generous statement. He can boil pasta, bake some very simple cookies, and he’s an ace at heating up frozen food.

“Why don’t we order supper?” says Davey, suddenly noting just how much time has passed since they left the bakery. “You can choose what we have, since I’m a good fiancé and all.”

Jack snorts and rolls his eyes, but pulls out his phone to make an order nonetheless.

 

-

 

Two cartons of greasy Chinese food later, Jack and Davey are tangled on the couch, playing video games, like basically any other evening.

They’re playing Outlast— or rather, Davey is playing and Jack is screaming.

“ _Run_ , you shit!” screeches Jack, smacking Davey’s shoulder and bouncing up and down on the couch. “Go! He’s right there!”

“I’m trying!” yells Davey, while frantically mashing buttons on the controller. “Oh my god, I’m trying!”

Both boys groan as their character is violently murdered on the screen. As much as they enjoy gaming, it would be a lie to say they’re any good at it.

Just as Davey is about to hand over the controller for Jack to have a turn, they see Jack’s phone buzz on the table, which it hasn’t stopped doing all evening.

 ** _Shithead Higgins_** : _heyyyyyy jacky boy_

Jack rolls his eyes as he picks up his phone and taps out a response. He’s known Race for years and years, so it shouldn’t be a surprise that he wants to investigate the rumour of Jack and Davey’s engagement.

 ** _Jack_** : _you’re outside, aren’t you_

 ** _Shithead Higgins_** : _how dare you assume things about me_  
**_Shithead Higgins_** : _but yes i am please let me in_

 ** _Jack_** : _fuck you_

Nevertheless, Jack gets up and presses the button near the door to buzz Race, probably Spot, and maybe even Albert up to their apartment. They come as a pack of three, most often, despite the fact that Spot and Race are married and Albert just tags along. The three of them were best friends before Spot and Race even got together, so they now call themselves a family and refer to Albert as the _ugly ginger son_.

“Do we at least tell _them_ the truth?” asks Davey, while fiddling with the PS4 controller. He closes the game and sets the controller to the side. “They probably already know it’s bullshit.”

Jack turns around with mischief in his eyes.

“Oh no, Dave,” he says with what’s probably supposed to be an evil laugh. “We can’t make up a giant lie and not fuck with our friends. Just follow my lead.”

Davey’s not sure if it’s fondness or exasperation that makes him sigh and shake his head. Either way, he’ll never turn down an opportunity to mess with Spot and Race, who have done their fair share of messing with Jack and Davey. Spot is Jack’s younger foster brother— well, technically adoptive now, as Medda finally got the legal documents through just last year for her now-adult foster children to become her own. Either way, Spot and Jack have the brotherly bond of constant fuckery.

There’s a knock on the door, but it proves pointless because the fellas just let themselves in anyways.

“Jesus,” grumbles Jack as the door opens to reveal Race, Spot, Albert and one guy that Jack and Davey don’t even know. “I didn’t know we were hosting a house party tonight.”

“I didn’t know you were getting engaged,” snaps back Race, grabbing Spot’s arm and heading straight for the kitchen. “Oh yeah, our weird son brought his twinky boyfriend.”

The unfamiliar guy laughs and blushes, pressing himself a little closer to Albert. He’s clearly not fully adjusted to the sheer bluntness of Race’s personality. Albert, who definitely is adjusted, manages to express a perfect mixture of dead-inside and amused on his emotionless face.

“This is my boyfriend, Elmer,” he says. “We have no idea what’s going on. Race and Spot just picked us up and said it’s important.”

“It _is_ important!” yells Spot from the kitchen, which is only separated from the living room by a half wall, so he can still see everyone. “All of you go sit down, we need to have a family talk!”

Jack rolls his eyes and heads back to where Davey is sitting on the couch, motioning for Albert and Elmer to follow. Davey catches Albert mouthing _I’m so sorry_ to Elmer as they enter the room.

Jack dive-bombs onto Davey’s lap with no hesitation and proceeds to kiss him on the cheek. Alright… apparently they’re _really_ playing it up.

This catches Race’s attention, who slams his hands on the counter while Spot continues to rummage through the fridge.

“Okay… okay. _Apetta un minuto_ , bitches,” he says, gesturing between Davey and Jack. “What the hell is this?”

Jack intertwines his fingers with Davey’s and looks to Race, feigning confusion.

“What’s what? I mean… we’re _engaged_ ,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I can kiss him on the cheek— it’s not exactly scandalous. I could do a lot worse things to him, and you don’t wanna see that.”

Davey can’t help the blush that immediately blossoms on his cheeks. Of course an engaged couple would do… _things_ , but doing them with Jack is not a mental image he’s ever had to consider before. Granted, Jack is very attractive, definitely within Davey’s type…

Ok, this is _not_ the time for that.

“Hang on,” says Albert, frowning in confusion. He and Elmer have migrated to sitting on the other end of the couch from Jack and Davey. “ _Engaged_? Since when!?”

Jack turns to look at Davey for a moment, as if he’s thinking.

“Well, we only started telling people today, but it’s been what, like three weeks?”

Davey nods to confirm, and then gets the bright idea to show off the ring.

“Yeah, at the pumpkin patch!” he says, which only makes this funnier because Race, Spot and Albert were all _at_ the pumpkin patch. He holds out his hand to show Albert and Elmer the ring, which looks a lot more expensive than it really was. “When we said we were going back to take some pictures of the sunset, right before we left! He got down on one knee, did the whole romantic speech. Isn’t Jack just the sweetest?”

See, this is what happens with Davey and Jack. They feed off each other. They’re the ultimate team for pulling pranks and whatnot, because there’s just a kind of _connection_ , where they’re able to effortlessly bounce off whatever the other says.

Race comes storming into the living room, Spot hot on his heels. They’re getting progressively angrier, and it kind of makes this whole mess worth it. He grabs Davey’s hand and stares at the ring in astonishment.

“You didn’t even _date_!” he screeches. “You can’t just jump straight to getting married!”

Jack, ever the phenomenal actor, manages the perfect look of confusion and disbelief.

“We’ve been dating for _five years_ ,” he says, almost incredulously. “You didn’t notice?”

Okay, yes, the look on Race and Spot’s faces make the entire lie worthwhile. This is _golden_.

“I’ve never seen you kiss!” says Spot, pacing back and forth. “Or do anything intimate!”

Davey shrugs.

“I don’t like PDA,” he says, trying impossibly hard not to laugh. He wraps his arms around Jack, who’s still on his lap. “We cuddle all the time, though.”

Albert’s looking hilariously confused too, and Davey wishes he were recording this moment so he can go back and laugh later on.

“Friends can cuddle, though—heating is expensive. You gotta stay warm somehow,” says Albert. He shakes his head. His confusion slowly dissolves into his usual relaxed expression. “I just thought you guys were really tight friends. But now that I’m looking back, this does make a lot of sense. You make a good couple.”

Again, like with what Kath said. Have they seriously been acting like a couple all this time? Katherine hadn’t even been surprised to learn about them getting engaged. That’s certainly got to say something about their relationship.

“God…” grumbles Race. “I need liquor. This is ridiculous. You never once thought to mention that you two were fucking? Or, like… touching each other through your boxers because you’re pure children?”

Jack snorts and Davey blushes even harder.

“First of all, we’re two years older than any of you shits,” says Jack. “So we’re not children. And we thought it was kind of obvious that we were together. I mean, we live together. We go on trips together. We kinda do most things together. We just weren’t, y’know…  _out there_ with it.” He shrugs, as casual as can be. “Because of my childhood trauma, and all that.”

Davey really has to commend Jack for bringing that up so effortlessly, because dropping a mention of it really deters people from pushing much further. Especially these fellas, who saw firsthand what went down with Jack’s parents, as some of his closest friends. After seeing all the bullshit he went through, it has to be understandable why Jack would want to keep things private.

“Okay, just… hang on,” says Spot. His tone is slightly less accusatory now, but he doesn’t seem to be fully convinced. “Why do you have separate bedrooms?”

Davey freezes. _Shit_.

Thank god for Jack’s ability to spout bold-faced lies with ridiculous amounts of confidence.

“We did,” he says. “Before we started dating. We just sleep in my room now. Y’know… like every time you’ve ever stayed here, when you sleep in Dave’s old room— the spare bedroom.”

Holy shit, Jack Kelly is a genius.

When Spot and Race stay over, they get Davey’s bed, while Davey and Jack just share for the night. Because best friends can share a bed sometimes… right? It’s totally not weird, is it?

Well, weird or not, it just saved their asses.

“Fuck me,” says Spot. Apparently that was the last straw to convince him. He bites down on the apple that Davey now notices he stole from the fridge. “I guess we’re idiots.”

Davey swears he hears Elmer whisper to Albert: “Is this… a normal hangout for you guys?” to which Albert slowly shakes his head.

Race has been suspiciously quiet, and when Davey looks at him, the poor kid seems like he’s having an existential crisis— staring at the floor like the truths of the universe have just been exposed to him.

“You’re serious…” he mumbles incredulously. “You’re actually engaged. This is insane.” There’s a long pause, and then he finally looks up at Jack and Davey. “Fuck, we need to celebrate!”

-

Some time later, they’re all spectacularly tipsy. Not shit-faced, just pleasantly buzzed.

“So, Elmer,” says Race from where he’s sitting on the floor, a beer in hand. “What are your intentions with my horrible, ugly, ginger son?”

Albert groans and hides his face in his hands, but Elmer just grins. They’ve come to discover that he’s delightfully friendly and manages to fall right into step with their sense of humour.

“Smoke a lot of weed and hunt aliens, mostly,” he says, making Albert _giggle_ , which is an alien phenomena in itself.

“Oh my god,” says Davey, still being crushed by Jack, who now seems to be on the edge of falling asleep. “Albie found his soulmate. Weed and aliens. Love is beautiful.”

While everyone laughs and continues to poke fun at Albert, Davey focuses his attention on his sleepy best friend-slash-fiancé. Jack is sprawled on Davey’s lap with his face pressed into Davey’s neck, a more intimate position than they’d usually ever sit in, probably for the sake of appearances.

When Jack gets tipsy, he gets tired, and it’s also nearing two in the morning after a day where Jack had an early meeting. It’s probably time to put him to bed.

“Jackie,” whispers Davey, tapping on Jack’s shoulder. Jack’s eyes slowly open and he looks around with a tired frown. “You need to go to bed, you’re exhausted. Let’s go.”

Davey suddenly feels everyone’s eyes on him. They’re waiting to see him do something intimate and couple-y. _Fuck_.

Davey presses a kiss to Jack’s cheek, much softer and longer than the peck he’d given on the way to the bakery. He hears Race _aww_ softly and kind of wants to throat punch him.

“C’mon, Jackie,” he says, while coaxing Jack into a standing position. They get there, but it involves Jack leaning heavily on Davey’s shoulders. “You can sleep in bed. Let’s go.” He turns to the guys, who don’t seem to be falling asleep just yet and will probably stay up a while longer. “You guys can crash here, just don’t be annoying.”

With some degree of difficulty, Davey hauls Jack to the bedroom that now apparently belongs to both of them. He helps Jack into bed and crawls in after him, before staring up at the ceiling and sighing

What a fucking day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, dinner with Davey’s family and probably the start of some angst!
> 
> Comment with any predictions you have :D
> 
> Rebloggable post: https://thefactsofthematter.tumblr.com/post/169354157997/it-all-comes-back-to-you-2334-words-by


	4. can’t help falling in love…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> would it be one of my fics without some angsty inner turmoil??
> 
> aka - davey is Realizing Things and jack gets sad sometimes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my last day of winter break, so updates will probably slow down after this one! i’ll work on this as much as i can but i’m going back to school + dancing five days a week and teaching dance as well! sorry!
> 
> i think we’re about halfway done? i’ve just been making things up as i go along so we’ll see! if there’s anything in particular you’d like to see happen, feel free to suggest things in the comments ;)
> 
> enjoy!

_Two weeks to the wedding._

 

"Do I need to wear a tie?"

Davey frowns and looks up from where he's washing dishes to face Jack, who's on the couch, typing away on his laptop. He has his drawing tablet out too, so he's probably doing something for work.

"To my parents house?" asks Davey. "Jack, you've been over for supper like a million times. Have you ever worn a tie?"

Jack looks up from his work with what could only be described as a pout.

"Well, this time I'm your _fiancé_ ," he whines. "I have to make a good impression!"

Davey snorts and sets a bowl in the drying rack.

"It's definitely too late for that." He laughs and dodges a tissue box that Jack sends flying. "Okay, I'm kidding. But you don't need to wear a tie; just wear something nice and, I don't know, casual. You work for a fashion magazine, I'm sure you can figure it out."

The comfortable silence from earlier settles back over the apartment as Jack gets back to work. Davey washes up the last couple of dishes, leaving them to air-dry in the rack; wipes the counters and the table; and takes a quick look around the kitchen to make sure it's as tidy as he likes it. It's acceptable, so he heads into the living room to sit in the armchair and mess around on his phone until it's time to finally get changed out of their pyjamas and go to dinner.

Lazy Saturdays are Davey's favourite days. He's used his limited cooking skills to make pancakes as a brunch, since they'd slept in until noon. In separate beds, of course. The sharing was only for convincing the boys that one night— but, okay, it _had_ been kind of nice to cuddle. It wouldn't be so bad if they _did_ share a room.

Well... there's a sign that Davey's been single for too long. He'll take any cuddles he can get, and he's not even a particularly touchy person. He's not someone for casual hookups, and he hasn't been in a relationship since senior year of high school, so things are pretty bleak on the intimacy front.

Is it bad that he's kind of enjoying being so touchy with Jack all the time? Every time they go out, they're practicing acting like a couple, so that they don't freak out and mess it all up at dinner tonight, or at the wedding that's coming up scarily fast. They hold hands, they're always leaning into each other, and cheek kisses are a regular occurrence. It's nice. It's... —well, everyone wants to have someone to hold onto, right? It's only natural that Davey doesn't really want it to end.

Davey blinks as he realizes that he's been staring at a blank phone screen, lost in his thoughts. He _does_ want this to end, right? Of course he wants to stop lying and pretending— he should want everything to go back to normal. But... he's kind of enjoying this. The thought of having to break up with Jack in a few weeks time kind of makes his chest ache, just a little.

"Hey Jack," he says, needing to change the topic from the uncomfortable conversation he's having with himself. Jack looks up and, _wow_ , has he always been this pretty? Okay— these weird thoughts need to slow down. "If they ask tonight why we didn't say we were together, you don't have to talk about what happened with your parents. I mean, it saved our asses a couple of times, but if it's too much, or you're uncomfortable, you can really just—"

Jack chuckles and Davey trails off, realizing how badly he's rambling.

"It's fine," says Jack, but he sounds like he might be stretching the truth a bit. He doesn't talk about it often, but the topic makes him so anxious when he does that Davey usually just wants to give him a hug. Jack continues, scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck. "Really, it's fine to talk about. I mean, it's part of my life, you know? It happened, it was shitty, but I'm moving forward."

Davey frowns a little, watching the way Jack moves to tugging nervously  on his own fingers.

"If you're _sure_ , Jack," he says. "I just... really don't want you to feel like there's pressure to mention it, or something. All we have to say is that we weren't at a point in our lives where we wanted to say we were in a relationship— my parents won't press."

All it takes is a few more seconds of Davey watching Jack with a concerned expression for Jack to break, sighing heavily.

"Okay... I guess I'd like it better if we didn't talk about it." He shakes his head and seems frustrated with himself. He's spiralling, as he tends to do. "I don't know— it _is_ the reason I don't talk about things. It's not entirely lying if I tell them we didn't say anything because my parents fucking disowned me for liking boys. I never say _anything_ about anything because of that! I always keep shit to myself and—”

Jack cuts himself off by dropping his head in his hands, and Davey stands up from the armchair to go sit next to him on the couch. It's just one of those times— Jack looks like he could use a hug.

"Hey, Jack..." says Davey, softly, as he carefully puts an arm around Jack. This is why they don't talk about the past much. Jack always works himself into either a panic, tears, or both. "Take a deep breath, okay? This is why I brought it up now— so we don't have to talk about it later. We won't bring it up at all at supper. We'll just say we wanted our privacy, and that's that. Alright?"

Jack nods, quietly. He's not the type of guy that anyone would expect to have anxiety, but it's there. As much as he brushes things off and jokes about his fucked-up childhood, he has times where it all really does affect him.

"I'm sorry, Dave," he mumbles after a long while of both of them sitting in silence, Jack trying to calm the trembling in his hands. "I didn't mean to, like, freak out on you. All that shit still gets to me when I think about it too much, an' I start to kinda... melt down."

Davey just smiles, in an effort to make sure Jack knows he doesn't need to apologize.

"It's okay," says Davey. "I'm always here, okay? Anything you need to talk about. I promise, you can tell me anything."

The same unreadable look as when they'd been walking to the bakery crosses Jack's face. It's not _sad_ , it's not _scared_. It's almost... _lost_? The best way to describe it is that there's words on the tip of his tongue that he's stopping himself from saying.

"I should go shower," says Jack, suddenly. He clears his throat, abruptly returning to himself and shaking off whatever had come over him for that moment. "Can't show up looking like a mess. I'm meeting the in-laws."

As much as Davey wants to push and push and find out what Jack was thinking, all he can do is laugh and roll his eyes.

Jack will talk when he's ready.

-

"So, talk me through the proposal," says Esther, once everyone has generous helping of food on their plates. They're all sitting around the dinner table: Davey's parents, Jack, Davey himself, and fifteen year-old Les, who seems both grumpier and taller every time Davey comes over to visit. Sarah and Kath had plans for the evening already, so they’re not around, which is probably for the better. “Who asked who? Where were you?”

Jack and Davey look to each other, smiling. They’ve rehearsed this story several times, just to make sure they’ve got the details right.

“Do you wanna tell it?” asks Jack. Davey is still astounded by Jack’s acting. He’s just got this look in his eyes where anyone could believe that’s he’s truly, deeply in love.

The look is enough to make Davey blush, so he breaks the eye contact and turns to face his parents again, who are watching the two boys fondly.

“We went out with a bunch of friends to a farm, kinda upstate,” he says, bumping shoulders with Jack. “Spent a whole day out there, because Race— sorry, _Anthony_ — wanted us to have a pumpkin carving contest, so we were picking out our pumpkins.”

“We won the contest,” throws in Jack. “We’re the dream team.”

Davey rolls his eyes fondly and continues.

“So it’s the end of the day and the sun’s going down— and you guys know Jack does paintings, right? We were about to all leave, but he says he wants to go back out to the field and take a picture of the sunset, so he could paint it. And then he says I should come with him, so he doesn’t get lost.”

Esther and Mayer both laugh at this, under the impression that Jack had made a silly excuse to get Davey alone with him, but it’s funny because everything up to this point is true. Jack is just _really_ bad with directions.

“I go along with him,” continues Davey, “and when we got out there I pulled out my phone to actually take some pictures— and then this little devil gets down on one knee right behind me.”

Davey’s mother _aww_ ’s and leans into his father’s side. Davey notes that Les is sneakily texting under the table, not paying attention at all.

“He thought I was joking, at first,” says Jack, taking over to tell the rest of the story. “But then, y’know, I asked him to marry me and he said yes. I gave him the ring an’ only cried a little bit.”

Davey laughs and reaches over to pinch Jack’s cheek, but Jack swats him away.

“What?” he says, chuckling. “You make me happy! Sometimes I just have to cry it out!”

Davey’s not sure how to explain the feeling he’s getting right now, sitting around a dinner table and laughing with his family and with Jack, pretending to be in love. It’s like he doesn’t have to try to pretend, the little intricacies of their so-called relationship just come naturally. He feels _warm_ , like this is where’s he’s meant to be right now. Like this is how the universe intended for things to be.

The conversation lulls while they eat the fantastic roast beef and mashed potatoes that Davey’s mother had cooked. Jack compliments the food wholeheartedly, and Davey’s father makes a little off-hand comment that somehow manages to shake Davey to the core: “That one’s a keeper, isn’t he? You picked the right boy, David.”

Davey has to excuse himself and hurry to the bathroom.

He stares himself down in the mirror for a long while, trying to decipher all the thoughts that have been flying around his head today. Eventually, he runs a hand over his face and sighs in defeat.

He’s in love with Jack Kelly, isn’t he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you’re enjoying this, there is a rebloggable post on my tumblr here: https://thefactsofthematter.tumblr.com/post/169354157997/it-all-comes-back-to-you-by-scarlettroses-davey
> 
> comments are greatly appreciated!


	5. can’t we turn back time?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> not quite the javid kiss you’ve been expecting ;) and then some sprace to lighten things up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i managed to crank out one more chapter before school starts again! i’ve been on a lil writing kick these past few days. 
> 
> only warning here is lots of alcohol talk throughout and some mentions of party drugs with sprace being idiots at the end
> 
> honestly the whole part with spot and race is so stupid and i was planning on putting a lil more plot development there, but i felt like we needed something silly after the bit before it
> 
> enjoy!

" _Davey_! We have _no_ breakfast food."

Davey hasn't even fully stepped out of his bedroom, and Jack's already whining. He hates that he finds it so endearing.

As Davey steps out into the living area of their little apartment, he sees Jack bent over with his head in the fridge. There's plenty of food inside, but it's true that there's nothing breakfast-y. They'd used the last of the eggs yesterday, they're out of cereal, and all that's left of the loaf of bread on the counter is some dried-out end pieces.

Jack stands back up when he hears Davey come in, but seems to forget that his head is inside the fridge and smacks the back of it on his way up.

"Oh, fuck me," he grumbles, rubbing the back of his head while Davey immediately cracks up. "Shut up, Jacobs. That really fuckin' hurt."

Davey just keeps laughing as he joins Jack in the kitchen to look around at their breakfast-less shelves.

"Would going out for brunch make it feel better?" asks Davey. "And then grocery shopping because this is ridiculous."

Jack hops up to sit on the counter and kick Davey with his dangling legs.

" _God_ , we're such millennials," he says, in a voice nearly reminiscent of what might be a valley girl. "This is why we don't own a house, _David_. It's the avocado toast."

Davey rolls his eyes, not even reacting as Jack’s feet bump into his hip.

“That’s funny,” he remarks, “because you wouldn’t eat anything vaguely healthy for breakfast if I paid you. As if you’d even _touch_ an avocado, let alone pay ten dollars to eat it smashed on toast.”

“Okay,” says Jack, jumping off the counter in a mock rage. “First of all, _fuck_ you. Second of all, you’re absolutely right.”

Both of them laugh, and Davey turns to grab his phone from where it’s been charging on the counter.

“Do you think that bakery where we tried the cake does brunch?” he asks, already starting to google it. “It said _café_ on the sign, I think.”

It does, so Davey shoots a text with the location attached into their group chat with himself, Jack, Spot, Race, Albert, and newly-added Elmer.

_**Davey** : boys brunch in an hour?_

Replies come almost immediately.

 __ **Racer** : yesssss i love drinking on sunday mornings  
**Spotty Boy** : we just woke up but i want mimosas we’ll be there  
**Albo** : elmer and i are literally eating breakfast right now sorry guys have fun

Jack reads the messages as they come in to his phone as well, and rolls his eyes at Albert’s text.

“Have you been watching his snap story lately?” asks Jack. “Seriously, are they ever apart? I mean, it’s cute and all, but really… they’re like teenagers.”

Davey cocks an eyebrow and shrugs.

“Isn’t Elmer like nineteen anyways?” he says. “And Albert’s twenty. They kind of _are_ teenagers. Leave them alone, it’s adorable.”

Jack shakes his head and groans.

“God, when did we become the grandpa friends?” he asks, kicking the garbage can dramatically as he leaves the kitchen and Davey follows. “We’re friends with _babies_. Literal infants. I always forget Albie’s young because he’s so grumpy he might as well be seventy years old— he can’t even drink, Davey! We’re criminals, we give him booze!”

Jack’s especially dramatic when he’s hungry, something Davey has come to notice over the years.

“You started drinking when you were fifteen,” notes Davey, but Jack’s hardly listening, too busy collapsing on the couch and sighing so hard he loses his breath. Davey rolls his eyes. “Remember one of the first times we got drunk, when you puked in the potted plant at whoever’s house that was? And then tried to pretend it wasn’t you? You said it was the _cat_.”

Jack covers his face with a pillow and groans.

“Never bring that up again,” he says, clearly laughing under the pillow. He throws it to the side and shakes his head. “I gotta go get dressed. You’re a _shit_ , Davey Jacobs.”

As Jack leaves the room, Davey is suddenly struck by another memory from that night, one that makes him freeze and go a little dizzy.

He sits down on the couch and stays there until they have to leave.

 

-

 

_They’re fifteen years old, drinking watery beer out of red solo cups in Finch’s basement. There’s about ten of them sitting around, all tipsy due to being complete and utter lightweights._

_“Never have I ever…” Blink pauses, laughs and continues. “Kissed a boy.”_

_Everyone goes quiet and all eyes go to Jack, who seems to be trying to look anywhere other than at his circle of friends. Blink’s got a smart mouth on him, and doesn’t always think before he speaks._

_Jack’s the only gay friend— bisexual, technically— as far as anyone knows, and all of them know damn well why Jack’s parents kicked him out last year. The wound is still fairly fresh and no one in their right mind would make a joke of it. Unfortunately, nobody here is in their right mind._

_Jack slowly lifts his drink to his mouth, and looks like he wants the floor to swallow him whole. Davey frowns because that’s his best friend and he’ll be damned if anyone ever makes Jack feel like shit._

_Davey makes a show of downing the rest of his drink. All the attention is pulled off of Jack and all eyes are on Davey._

_“What?” says Mush, after a few seconds of stunned silence. “Who? When?”_

_Davey just shrugs and smiles coyly._

_Maybe he just came out to all of his friends, but the relief on Jack’s face makes everything worth it._

_~_

_“You’ve kissed a boy, huh?” asks Jack, raising an eyebrow._

_The two of them are sitting on Finch’s back porch, pretty drunk for a couple of kids. Most people have fallen asleep by now, but Jack and Davey have snuck out for some fresh air._

_“Well, about that…” Davey rubs the back of his neck awkwardly and thanks god it’s too dark out to see him blush. “I, uh, I haven’t yet. But, y’know. I’d like to. Eventually. Boys are… nice.”_

_Jack snorts and shakes his head._

_“Thanks for saving me, Dave,” he says. “That was really cool of you. Fellas thought you were wild.”_

_Davey laughs because he doesn’t really know how to react._

_“No problem,” he says. “I mean, I had to tell ‘em sooner or later. Might as well make them think I get more action than I really do.”_

_Jack looks at Davey for a long moment, and Davey blushes a little harder._

_“You ever kissed anyone, Davey?”_

_Davey shakes his head. A closeted gay kid doesn’t exactly get a lot of shots._

_The next moments can be prefaced with a mention that both of them were drunk enough that they’d each vomited in strange places. It was approaching 4 o’clock in the morning— the weirdest time of the night._

_Jack slowly leans in and presses his lips against Davey’s. They stay there for a moment before Jack pulls back and smiles._

_“Now you have,” he says. “Any fella who gets to kiss you someday is gonna be lucky, Dave. You’re a super guy.”_

 

-

 

While they walk to brunch, Davey can’t stop thinking about that night. He wonders if Jack remembers it, considering that he’d forgotten about it up until now.

 _You were drunk_ , Davey reminds himself. _A couple of drunk, confused teenagers. It didn’t mean anything._

But at the same time, that was his first kiss. And surely it must’ve meant _something_ to Jack, or he wouldn’t have done it. Right? Jack’s a hopeless romantic, he doesn’t just go around kissing anyone.

“Holy shit,” says Jack, snapping Davey back to reality. “That dog’s wearing glasses! Davey, look! That’s the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen!”

This is enough prompting to pull Davey out of his thoughts. He laughs as he sees the Boston Terrier across the street from them with a tiny little pair of glasses on.

This doesn’t, however, stop Davey from wondering how Jack might react if Davey kissed him now, eight years later.

You know, just making it even.

 

-

 

“You did _what_ last night?”

Jack has just almost choked on his crepe and proceeded to almost spill his mimosa. They’re at a table in the corner of the bakery-café-whatever, and Spot and Race are back on their bullshit.

Race is laughing so hard he can’t even answer Jack’s question. Spot is shaking with laughter as well, and Davey’s just watching the two of them like a disappointed father.

“Okay, so,” Race finally manages, “we went out with Specs and Romeo last night, ‘cause Spot’s been studying so much that I wanted him to have a break. We went to, like, whatever random club, and we might have finessed a sugar daddy into giving us free weed. We’re _businessmen_ now.”

Jack shakes his head, dropping his fork on his plate.

“No, no, you gotta talk me through this. How the hell did you manage that?”

It sometimes becomes quite clear that Jack is Spot’s older brother, and this is one of those times. Race and Spot are Jack’s just-turned-21 babies, who have a penchant for being incredibly stupid, and Jack won’t admit how much that worries him.

“He started hitting on us,” says Spot, “because we were in a gay bar and we’re hot but we look like we’re underage— so old men like us a lot. And, like, we were _very_ clearly holding hands. We didn’t have our rings, since our drunk asses would lose them, but it was obvious that we were together.”

“We were ignoring him,” adds Race. “He was trying to get Spot’s attention and Spot didn’t even look up from he phone— this guy says _Hey!_ and Spot just goes _Nope._ And expects this guy to move it along. But then the guy said he owns like ten weed dispensaries.”

He pauses to lean into Spot’s shoulder and take a deep breath, trying to calm his giggles. Jack and Davey make eye contact that can only say _how are these idiots still alive?_

“So then right away I’m like—” Race pauses to run a hand through his blonde curls, pull his shirt down a little and put on a ridiculous, high voice. “ _Oh my god, really? I love weed_.”

Davey barely controls the urge to slam his head into the table.

“Because why would we pay for weed when we can finesse this man?” says Spot. “So he bought Race a drink, not me because he’s clearly into twinks—” Race slaps Spot on the shoulder but Spot continues. “And Race is giggling like an idiot and, like, sipping on the drink, touching the guy’s chest, and after a while the guy just hands him a card that says we can come in for a free bag of weed! For real!”

Jack, by this point, has his elbows on the table and his head in his hands.

“Please say that’s the end of the story,” says Jack. “Please tell me he went away after he gave you the fucking weed coupon.”

Spot and Race share an awkward look and Jack groans.

“That could’ve been so dangerous, you guys,” says Davey, finally stepping in as the mom friend. “He could’ve slipped something in that drink.”

More awkward eye contact between Spot and Race, more disappointed groaning from Jack and Davey.

“It was just a Xanax!” says Race. “And, I mean, it’s not like I’ve never done Xan. But I went and threw it up as soon as I realized!”

Jack has moved to slowly thumping his head against the table.

Davey can’t exactly say anything, considering that he and Jack had their own party phase as soon as they were legal and, okay— Davey will never admit this to anyone now, but his and Jack’s twenty-one year-old selves might have done some party drugs once or twice. And the parts that he remembers now were _really_ fun.

This is, of course, a prime moment for good ol’ Charlie, the friendly employee to come over to their table.

“Is, uh, everything tasting alright?” he asks, eyeing Jack’s hunched over form and the way Race is still nearly crying with quiet laughter.

“Yep,” says Davey with a sigh. “Yeah, it tastes great. I’m so sorry about these idiots.”

Charlie just laughs. He’s probably overheard all of it and he’s thankfully not threatening to kick them out.

Davey makes a note in his head that they should come here more often. It’s delicious, first of all, and Charlie has overheard enough garbage that he’s basically in their circle of friends. 

Maybe in another timeline, where Jack and Davey are actually engaged, they could order a wedding cake here.

Davey brushes the thought from his own mind. He’s only going to break his own heart, thinking like that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a note— i read all your comments! i keep meaning to go through and answer them but i either forget or get distracted! thank you thank you thank you for all the love!!!!!!
> 
> as always, feel free to stop by thefactsofthematter on tumblr and say hi!


	6. shivers down my spine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> angst? angst. 
> 
> these poor boys…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait!!!
> 
> warning for this one: some heavily implied past child abuse— we get a bit more insight into jack’s story. 
> 
> i was having some writers block for a while, but i think i finally have it planned out of where i want this going! 
> 
> enjoy!

_One week to the wedding._

It's quiet in Davey and Jack's apartment, a strange occurrence for a Saturday afternoon.

Jack's come down with some kind of flu in the past few days— he's picked up a cough, spiked a fever today and is now absolutely miserable. He's been curled up on the couch for most of the morning, wrapped up in blankets, drifting in and out of sleep.

"You're looking more awake," notes Davey, upon returning from a quick food run. He's carrying a plastic bag of soup and buns from their new favourite bakery. "Feeling any better?"

Jack shakes his head from inside his blanket pile. He’s been shaking with chills all morning and has wrapped himself in a cocoon of quilts. His face, though somewhat hidden by the hood of his sweater, is somehow flushed and pale at the same time and there's an air of exhaustion to his eyes. He's been getting worse all morning, the fever's now high enough that Davey had been rather nervous about leaving Jack alone. Jack's sitting up now, though, and his eyes are finally fully open.

"Still awful," he grumbles, before coughing to clear his throat. "Still freezing cold and hungry."

Davey holds up the bag with a smile.

"Only the best for my fiancé," he says, setting it on the counter to start unpacking the food. "I got baked potato soup. Charlie said it's fantastic."

"Is he the only guy that works there?" croaks Jack, the tickle in his throat having reduced his voice to barely above a whisper.

Davey shrugs as he slides open a drawer to grab some spoons.

"He owns it, apparently." He says. "I was talking to him a bit. He said it was his mother's, but she passed a few years ago and he took over. He makes most of the cakes and works the till when he can, but he's got other people who help out. He's only our age and already owns a business— I think we're falling behind."

Jack manages a raspy laugh at this, which Davey considers an achievement. He carries the soup cups into the living room and delivers one to Jack, whose hands are literally shaking when he reaches for it.

"Can I take your temperature again before you eat?" says Davey as the thought pops into his brain. He'd texted his mother for advice earlier in the day on what to do, and he'd been told to keep seeing where the fever's at and trying to bring it down; if it goes higher than a certain point, to give Jack medicine for it. They don't need to go to a doctor unless it gets incredibly high or he starts having trouble breathing, so they should be fine to stay at home. They're right in the middle of flu season, so that's more than likely the cause of Jack's illness.

"Again?" whines Jack, who sounds tired enough that even just complaining is taking a lot out of him. "Fuck off, you're like my mom."

Davey laughs as he retrieves the thermometer from the bathroom cupboard.

"I just worry, okay?" he says, returning to the living room. "I think it's leftover from that time Les got sick when he was little and was in the hospital for a few days. I was only, like, ten years old but I was freaking the hell out, even though he ended up completely fine."

Davey holds the thermometer to Jack's mouth and Jack cooperates, letting it rest under his tongue.

"He had pneumonia," continues Davey, since Jack can't really talk with a thermometer in his mouth. "He had a fever so bad he didn't even wake up for almost a whole day. You should've seen me crying about it, even though Mom kept telling me he'd be alright. I was a dramatic kid."

The thermometer beeps and Jack spits it out and hands it to Davey.

"You're dramatic now," he says, rolling his eyes and picking his soup back up from the coffee table to start eating. "I'm fine."

Davey tries not to let Jack see him wince at the temperature on the little screen. It's gone up since the last time he checked, the screen now reads 102.5.

“Do you want a Tylenol?” asks Davey, and he hates how annoyingly overbearing he sounds. “It might be able to help bring your temperature down.”

Jack shrugs, his mouth full of soup. Davey’s not entirely sure if that’s a yes or a no, but he grabs a couple of pills anyways when he goes to put the thermometer back.

Jack seems to get more and more tired as they eat, with all of his energy being drained to fight whatever infection it is that’s dragging him down. He ends up falling asleep with half a bowl of soup on his lap, which Davey thankfully snatches before it can spill.

The rest of the afternoon passes with Davey reading and tidying and doing other quiet activities, so as to not wake Jack, who looks endearingly soft as he sleeps on the couch.

Davey’s not sure if it’s instinct from pretending all the time, or if it’s some kind of moment of weakness to how horribly in love he is, but when he feels Jack’s forehead to check on his temperature, he presses a little kiss there as well.

 

-

 

When Davey isn’t sure what do to, he calls his mother.

That’s why he’s sitting on the opposite end of the couch from Jack with his phone pressed to his ear, tapping his fingers nervously on his knee.

“I don’t know, Mom,” he says, still making an effort to keep his voice low while Jack sleeps. “He’s breathing really weird— like, wheezing, almost. And his cough has gotten way worse than yesterday. He’s been sleeping since one o’clock, so that’s five hours now. He’s a lot warmer than he was before.”

“ _Would you say he’s having trouble breathing? Or just breathing weirdly?_ ”

God bless Esther Jacobs for always having a steady head on her shoulders when Davey is freaking out. She’s nothing but calm and Davey is beyond appreciative.

He takes a closer listen to Jack’s breathing and watches his flushed face with a frown.

“It sounds like it hurts,” he says, but it comes out more like a question. “He’s breathing fast and really shallow.”

Davey hears his mother hum in thought. He keeps his eyes glued to Jack, who’s still shivering with chills.

“ _Wake him up and talk to him_ ,” she says. “ _Keep me on the phone and tell me what he says_.”

Davey moves a little closer to Jack and gently pushes his sweaty hair off of his burning forehead.

“Jackie,” he says, softly, moving his hand over Jack’s forehead again. “Can you wake up for me, Jack? Can you open your eyes?”

It takes a few moments, but Jack eventually blinks awake. He frowns as he focuses his eyes on Davey.

“I don’t feel good,” he says, and then falls into a coughing fit. It’s an awful, wet cough and he’s left wheezing even worse than before. “Dave, I really don’t feel good.”

Davey’s got his mother on speakerphone at this point and he hears her sigh softly.

“What’s wrong, Jack?” asks Davey, now just resting a hand on Jack’s warm face. “Does anything hurt?”

Jack coughs again and nods as he does so. He points weakly to his chest and Davey relays this information to his mother.

“Feels like I can’t breathe,” adds Jack, once the coughing has passed. “It hurts to take a deep breath— it’s been hurting all day but this worse.”

There’s a pause as Esther thinks and Jack attempts to take deep breaths but ultimately just winces and goes back to his laboured breathing from before.

“ _I think you should probably go to the hospital_ ,” says Esther, and Davey’s heart basically stops. “ _That sounds like pneumonia, if I know anything. If it’s hurting to breathe and has been for a while, you definitely need a doctor. Don’t call an ambulance, necessarily, but I’d head over to Emergency Care when you can_.”

Jack just whines upon hearing that and curls into his blankets.

“I’m not going anywhere, Jacobs,” he says, clearly intending on sounding threatening, but it’s impossible with his raspy voice. “I’m comfortable right here.”

 

-

 

Ten minutes later, they’re in an Uber to the nearest hospital.

Jack’s not happy about it, but he’s too tired to care and is leaning sleepily on Davey’s shoulder. He keeps coughing himself awake as he starts to doze off, and the poor driver cringes every time.

They pull up to the hospital and Davey has to basically drag Jack to the emergency room doors. That’s when things start to go to shit.

“I hate hospitals,” Jack keeps whispering, sounding so distraught that Davey almost wants to give in and go back home. “Davey, I don’t want to… Davey, _please_.”

They stop just outside the doors and Davey turns to Jack with a frown.

“You can barely breathe,” he says, holding Jack’s shoulders firmly. “You can’t stop shaking. We have to see a doctor, Jackie. What is your issue?”

Jack genuinely seems on the verge of tears when he shakes his head and wraps his arms around himself.

“I can’t do it, Davey,” he says, starting to work himself into a panic. His breathing has picked up faster than it was before and he’s trembling worse than ever. “I can’t go in there, I don’t want to. Don’t make me go in, Davey. _Please_.” His raspy voice cracks on the last word and it sounds like he could start crying at any moment.

Davey sighs, torn. He doesn’t want Jack panicking like this, but he’s actually really sick and they need a doctor. Even if the doctor just tells them that everything is fine and they can leave, it’s better than risking not getting treatment for something serious.

“I’m going to be with you the whole time,” he says, trying to take the reassuring approach. “I’m going to stay right next to you and they’re going to help you, okay? I don’t know why you’re so scared, but you don’t have to be, alright? We’re just here to help you feel better.”

Jack shakes his head again but doesn’t verbally protest. He seems at war with himself, but the tightness in his chest and uneasiness from the fever ultimately take over and he lets Davey walk him inside.

That was… strange. Davey decides not to dwell on it. He’ll ask later— he’s got other things to worry about right now.

 

-

 

“Jack… stop touching that, dear. Just let it be.”

Jack’s been fitted with an oxygen mask by a nurse to ease his breathing and an IV drip to give him some fluids, but a doctor has yet to come see him. He’s tired and out of it, and keeps reaching up to tug on the elastics that hold the mask to his face.

Davey settles on holding Jack’s hand, if only for the purpose of keeping him still. Jack is thankfully more relaxed now, a stark contrast to his panic outside the doors.

“It itches,” mumbles Jack, his voice muffled by the plastic mask over his mouth and nose. “I don’t like it. Take it _off_ me, Davey.”

Davey sighs and rubs his thumb along the back of Jack’s hand, hoping to calm him.

“Doesn’t it feel easier to breathe now?” he says, having to lean over Jack and stop his other hand from grabbing at the mask too. “It’s helping you. Just relax.”

Jack coughs and then groans tiredly. Davey’s been instructed to keep him awake until the doctor comes, but it’s proving to be rather difficult.

“Jack…” says Davey after a few moments of silence. He waits for Jack to look at him. “What had you so upset before? Why didn’t you want to come to the hospital?”

Davey’s not even sure if Jack heard him, because he doesn’t respond for a few seconds, but he eventually closes his eyes and sighs.

“When the whole thing happened with my parents,” he says, mumbling, the exhaustion evident in his voice. “I got brought to the hospital right after. I was so fucking scared and all alone… I kept havin’ to talk to cops and get checked by nurses, and I just wanted to go to bed. I had more panic attacks in the hospital that night than I’ve had in the past few years.”

Davey feels like a blast of ice has gone through his blood as he freezes, his face falling into a frown.

“You never told me they hurt you…” he says, squeezing onto Jack’s hand. “You said they just kicked you out. I knew they yelled so much that the neighbours called the cops, but you never said they hurt you too— so much that you had to go to the hospital.”

Jack’s eyes snap open as if he’s just realized he’s said too much. He does his best to shrug nonchalantly and starts to backpedal.

“It was just a checkup,” he says, clearly lying. He yawns mid-sentence and his eyes slide closed again. “They just wanted to make sure I was okay— and I was fine. Just real shaken up.”

Davey doesn’t push. He knows when he can keep asking, and when to drop it, and this is definitely a time to let the topic go. The information sits heavy in his mind, though. He’s not sure what to make of this.

-

Several nurses, a doctor, and a chest x-ray later, it’s confirmed that Jack has bacterial pneumonia. Davey curses himself for foreshadowing it in their earlier conversation about Les.

Jack’s half asleep, still clinging onto Davey’s hand, when the doctor returns to their sectioned off bed in the Emergency Care area.

“Before I can say anything,” says the doctor, mostly just talking to Davey, considering Jack’s sleepy state. “I have to ask what your relationship to the patient is.”

“Fiancé,” says Davey, on instinct. He tries not to flinch and give it away when he realizes that he’s just lied to a doctor. His eyes flick down to see that he’s at lest wearing his ring, because he’s taken to just always wearing it so that they never forget it.

Jack snorts and laughs a little next to Davey— he must be conscious enough to have heard that. Davey giggles a little in response and the doctor looks between them with a smile.

“Oh, young love,” she says, chuckling. “Well, you’ve got full clearance for information about Jack, then. We’re going to move him up to a general ward and hang onto him for at least tonight and tomorrow morning, so we can get the antibiotics going and keep an eye on that fever. If it all goes well, you’ll have him home by tomorrow afternoon. If his breathing doesn’t clear up by then, he’ll stay in a bit longer. Either way, there’s nothing to be worried about.”

Davey finally breathes a sigh of relief.

He follows next to Jack’s bed as he’s moved up to the fourth floor and set up in a room with a few other beds. He spends the rest of the evening holding onto Jack’s hand and leaning tiredly on the edge of the bed.

He and Jack had been supposed to go to Sarah and Kath’s tonight to help make the place cards for their wedding dinner next weekend.

So much for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!!!
> 
> do you think jack will ever tell davey what really happened with his parents? what do you think did happen? comment away!
> 
> as always, come say hi at thefactsofthematter on tumblr!


	7. for reasons wretched and divine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ass tattoos and family time. cute boys are cute. 
> 
> feat. more irrelevant song lyric chapter titles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m back! coming in hot with one more chapter before i dive headfirst into finals week!
> 
> i like this chapter a lot. only warning is some talk of inappropriately placed tattoos and bad grindr hookups, if sex talk isn’t your thing. jack is a disgusting boy and davey doesn’t want to hear it. 
> 
> here’s a minor lack of continuity that will bother me if i don’t mention it— at the end of chapter 2 it sounds like smalls should be a young adult like jack and spot, but when i was writing this chapter i thought it would be more fun if she was just a lil bean! just roll with it!
> 
> i think that’s everything!
> 
> enjoy!!!

_Three days to the wedding_.

It's Wednesday, and Jack is finally almost back to normal. He's gaining some energy back and coughing less, so he's now thrown himself into all the work assignments that he'd been too sick to work on.

Leaving him in the hospital Saturday night had been an experience and a half. He'd been delirious with the fever, freaking out and crying his poor heart out when he realized that visiting hours were nearly over. He'd clung to Davey's hand, begging him not to go, and it had absolutely shattered Davey's heart.

It's what happened after that, though, once Jack was finally calm, that's been playing on repeat in Davey's head.

 

-

 

_Saturday night, 22:00_

"I'm going now, alright? I'll see you tomorrow, first thing in the morning."

Davey's leaning awkwardly over the railing on the side of the hospital bed, having managed to find away to wrap Jack up in a hug.

Jack is half-asleep, exhausted from panicking just a few minutes earlier, but he's hugging Davey back, squeezing tight. He's finally relaxed, which Davey considers a win on his part. He's learned tonight that a feverish, delirious Jack has a penchant for working himself up into an absolute meltdown and is quite resilient to Davey's efforts to help.

"Okay," rasps Jack, hardly able to talk above a whisper. As Davey pulls away from the hug, he notices Jack's eyes finally falling shut. It's quiet for a moment as Davey slips his jacket on, and then Jack, practically under his breath, mumbles: "I love you Dave, so much."

Davey swears his heart might pound out of his chest.

_He's your best friend_ , he reminds himself. _And you've helped him through a rough night. He loves you as a best friend, you weirdo._

Still, Davey finds himself standing next to Jack's bed a moment longer than he needs to, just watching him start to drift off. There's a little hiss from the oxygen mask and a wheeze in Jack's breathing, but it's rather quiet aside from that.

"I love you too," he says, after a while. Jack's probably asleep by now, so there's no use in holding back. "More than you could ever know."

 

-

 

_Present Time_

Davey's just finished thinking it over again, wondering if Jack even actually heard him, when he's interrupted by the man himself, as per usual.

"Do you think the nurse saw my ass tattoo?"

Ah, the joy of having Jack back to normal. He's upside-down on the couch, having bored himself half to death with work all day. He's practically been bouncing off the walls since Davey got home, itching to go out and do something.

"Why would she have seen it?" asks Davey, with the tone of voice that only someone who's been putting up with Jack Kelly for nearly a decade can manage. "You were in bed."

"She helped me go to the bathroom!" whines Jack. "I didn't even remember that until now, since those drugs and that fever had me fucked up. She saw the minion on my ass!"

Davey grimaces as he recalls that Jack and Race actually did get incredibly drunk one night and let Albert borrow a friend of a friend's tattoo gun to give them matching ass tattoos. Albert, being the meme-loving fuck that he is, had doodled tiny minions on both of them.

"Thanks for reminding me that exists," he says, the sarcasm in his voice incredibly clear. He groans with a hand over his eyes. "I can't believe you really did that."

Jack shakes his head, seeming to be somewhat in awe at his own stupidity.

"Neither can I," he says and his eyes suddenly go wide in horror. "Oh _god_ , one time this guy from Grindr was hitting it from the back and-"

"Okay!" interrupts Davey, in a weak attempt to save his sanity and not listen to Jack's gross hook-up stories. "That's enough! I don't wanna hear it. Let's change the topic, please."

Jack turns around to sit right-side up, not giving up on his story.

"He _saw_ it, Davey! And he asked me if I'd ever seen minion porn! _While_ he was fucking-"

" _Stop_!" Davey clamps his hands over his ears. "I don't want to hear it, Jack!"

"Don't tell me you don't have weird Grindr stories," says Jack, rolling his eyes. "I _know_ you do. You're a gay man in the modern world."

Davey can feel his cheeks heating up as he recalls a very awkward experience involving a guy from Grindr, a bathroom stall and an unsuspecting janitor, and immediately tries to erase the thought from his mind.

"Shut up, you rat," he says, decisively. "I do, but I also have some fucking dignity. You should try it some time."

Jack just sticks his tongue out like a petulant child.

"Medda wants us over for dinner," he says, for once actually listening to Davey and changing the topic. "She felt bad that she didn't have a chance to come see me when I was sick."

Davey lights up at that. It's been ages since they've been over to Medda's and he absolutely adores her, not to mention Jack's little foster sister— affectionately referred to as Smalls.

A stark contrast from raising two teenage boys, Medda had taken in a three year-old girl, during Jack's senior year of high school. Jack had been obsessed, always offering to babysit or take her out to the park. Davey can think back on a lot of afternoons spent in Medda's living room, playing with little Smalls when they promised they'd be studying.

"That'll be nice," he says. "I miss her, and Smalls has always been my favourite one in your family. Isn't her birthday coming up?"

Jack checks the date on his phone and nods, not even phased by not being Davey's favourite. Smalls is everyone's favourite.

"Yep, she'll be nine next week. That's actually insane. God, we're getting so old."

Davey laughs.

"Look at you, twenty-four in two months. You're a senior citizen."

Jack just launches a coaster from the coffee table at Davey and pouts like a toddler.

Yep, they're really adults.

-

"Stop callin' me that! I'm not small anymore!"

Davey watches fondly as Jack scoops the little girl up in a hug and spins her in a circle.

"Well, what do you want I should call you, then?" he asks, once they stop spinning. "You got a better idea?"

"Uh, my _name_ , maybe," is Smalls' reply. She's picking up more of an attitude with every day that passes. "I have one, you know."

"Tough, kid," says Jack, hiking her up to sit on his hip. "You're Smalls," he then gestures to Spot, who's napping on the couch, "he's Spotty. I'm the big brother, I get to make the rules."

They've arrived at Medda's for dinner, to find that the whole family is kicking around. Race is in the kitchen, continuing to surprise everyone with incredible culinary ability. Medda is happy to let him have at it, choosing instead to work on dessert. Spot is, as mentioned, asleep on the couch, his favourite pastime.

"Why's he called Spotty anyways?"

Jack leans over Spot with Smalls still in his arms and points at Spot's freckles with his free hand.

"Well, look," he says. "He's got spots all over the place. He's _Spotty_."

Smalls just rolls her eyes and groans before wiggling her way out of Jack's grip and back to the ground.

"You're stupid, Jack," she says, and then takes off to her room.

Jack stands there for a solid thirty seconds, just looking utterly defeated as Davey stifles the urge to crack up.

"She's right," mumbles Spot, who apparently wasn't entirely asleep. "You _are_ stupid." And with that he rolls over to continue with his nap.

Poor Jack's betrayed expression doesn't change, he just shakes his head slowly, as if he can't believe his family is ganging up on him.

Davey walks over to put a sympathetic hand on Jack's shoulder.

"If it makes you feel any better, it only gets worse," he offers, still trying not to laugh. "Les doesn't even talk to me anymore."

Jack sighs dramatically and heads for the kitchen, taking Davey's hand to indicate for him to follow.

"Ma, they're _so_ mean to me," he whines as they enter. In the past few years since the adoption papers went though, he's taken to calling Medda _'Ma_ ' and Davey just thinks it’s the sweetest thing ever.

"C'mere, tall child," says Medda, opening her arms so Jack can come in for a hug. "How are you holding up, baby? You scared the hell out of me on Sunday, you devil."

On Sunday morning, Jack— being the nightmare that he is— had texted his family group chat nothing more than a selfie of him with the oxygen mask on, holding up his arm with IVs and a hospital wristband. He insists that as bad as he felt scaring Medda, it was worth seeing Spot freak out and call him in a panic, demanding to know what had happened and who he had to kill.

“I’m alright,” says Jack, shrugging as he pulls back from the hug. “Achey and tired, and still coughing, but I’m a load better than I was. Davey’s been taking good care of me.”

This prompts Medda to turn to Davey and hold out her arms for a hug from him too.

“My God, David,” she says, looking him up and down once they’ve had a nice long hug. “You just get more handsome every time I see you. Jack’s done good to snatch you up.”

Davey blushes at the attention and hears Race snort from where he’s stirring some kind of sauce at the stove. He resists the urge to tell Race to shut the hell up.

“Oh, thank you, Medda,” he says, chuckling a little. He and Jack have been so wrapped up their own bubble for the past few days that he’d almost forgotten they were doing this stupid thing.

“And the ring!” she says, as if she’s just remembered. “I need to see the ring!”

Davey dutifully holds out his hand and Medda gasps at how beautiful the five-dollar toe ring is.

“I’m so proud of you boys,” she says, and then she pulling Jack in for another hug and saying into his neck: “I’m so proud of you, baby. So proud.”

They stay there for a moment longer— an unconventional picture of family, but family nonetheless— until Race interrupts the moment by moving a pot of pasta off of the stove.

“Someone go wake up my husband,” he says, stirring the pot one more time. “Food is ready and I’m hungry.”

When no one moves, Race sighs and goes to do it himself.

One of Davey’s favourite things is watching Spot and Race be all domestic and couple-y, simply because it’s just so out of character for both of them. His heart warms as he watches Race crouch down next to the couch and peck Spot on the lips, before petting his hair and coaxing him awake. They kiss properly now, and then rest their foreheads together for a moment, whispering to each other under their breath.

In fact, it breaks Davey’s heart a little to watch, simply because he wants that so bad.

While he stands there watching, Jack comes up behind him, sliding his arms around his waist and kissing him on the cheek. Davey almost wants to shove him away because if it isn’t real, he doesn’t want it. This isn’t fair. Why do Spot and Race get to be so happy, and all Davey gets to do is play pretend?

He plays along, though, because he’s committed to their act, and also somewhat because he’s just happy to take what he can get. It might not be good for him in the long run, but he can’t really see the harm in pretending, for now, that Jack really does love him.

Davey Jacobs is completely, utterly screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, i really do read all your comments, and they make me smile so much!!! i never get around to replying but they mean the world to me!!!
> 
> do I really need to plug my tumblr again? come visit thefactsofthematter if you’d like to appreciate my shitposts and memes!


	8. just trust me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> will i ever let these boys be happy?
> 
> fair warning: i cried several times while writing this chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this chapter is… something. 
> 
> it’s longer than any of the other ones so far, and it gets Very Heavy in the second half. there’s some good ol banter at the beginning though, just because it’s so fun to write. 
> 
> without giving too much away: if discussion of past child abuse is going to trigger any emotions that you don’t think you can handle— please just send me a message on tumblr and i will recap this chapter and leave out the worse details, no questions asked. as much as i want people to read my writing, i’m way more worried about everyone being able to enjoy this story. if you’re not going to be comfortable reading this, then don’t. take care of yourselves please. 
> 
> that being said, i do hope everyone enjoys some heartbreaking angst. 
> 
> things will get better for our boys soon, i promise.

_Two days to the wedding_.

 

" _Jack_!" squeals Davey, managing to scare the shit out of Jack, who's looking a box of glassware and debating if it would be an appropriate wedding gift. "Can we buy these? We don't have enough cups."

The face Jack makes when he looks up to see Davey holding a package of Harry Potter-themed drinking glasses is nothing short of utterly dead-inside.

"I want to break all of those," he says, completely deadpan. "No way."

They're at Target with Spot and Race, searching for appropriate wedding gifts. Unfortunately, none of them are very well-versed in being adults and shopping for grown-up things, so it's proving to be a bit of a struggle.

"I'll use this one," continues Davey, far too enthusiastic, pointing to the blue Ravenclaw cup. "And then... _oh_ , I can assign you guys houses! Jack, this is _perfect_! It's four cups for four boys! Can I please buy them?"

"We're shopping for a wedding gift," replies Jack, exasperated. "A present for your sister. Not for you."

It's useless. Davey's on a rare bout of distraction and hyperactivity today— which, strangely enough, always seems to happen when they're out shopping and he can pester Jack about letting him buy silly things that they don't need.

"You know," continues Davey, "he doesn't seem like it at first, but Spot is _such_ a Hufflepuff."

This catches Spot's attention, who turns around and exclaims: "What the hell did you just call me?"

Davey ignores him, looking back and forth between Race and the red cup in the package.

"Race is a Gryffindor," he says. "Yeah, he's brave. And that leaves Slytherin for you, Jack, which is perfect because that's the mean house and you're always mean to me."

Jack just continues to look through different kitchen things— plates and glasses and all that. They'd figured every adult needs kitchen stuff, so it might be a good place to start.

"You're ridiculous," he says, trying to sound annoyed, but Davey can tell he's secretly smiling. "We're not buying those stupid cups."

Jack's been quiet and withdrawn all day, so Davey's been making a deliberate effort to get a rise out of him— like now, with the cup thing. It happens sometimes, where Jack starts to retreat into himself, caught up with anxiety, and Davey does his best to prevent that by knocking incessantly on any walls that Jack starts to build up.

"Fine, then we'll buy them for Sarah!" says Davey, excitedly. "She'll love them!"

Jack finally looks back up to Davey with the most sarcasm conveyed in his face that Davey's ever seen. At least there's some kind of expression where there's been blankness all day.

"She'll hate them and you know it," he says. "You just want her to regift them to you."

Davey shrugs innocently and smiles. They both know damn well that he's going to buy the glasses and Jack has no chance of stopping him. Somehow, they're both okay with that.

-

Jack only gets quieter and more nervous for the rest of the day. The only thing that manages to get a real response out of him is when Race brings up his and Spot's plans for Christmas.

They're sitting in Jack and Davey's apartment, as usual, eating greasy pizza and drinking cheap beer— out of Harry Potter glasses, of course. Spot and Race are staying overnight so they can all road trip up to the wedding venue together tomorrow to help set up. Albert and Elmer are here too, for the sole reason that they wanted pizza.

"Spot's gonna meet my family!" squeals Race, who sounds genuinely excited— to be expected, but also out of character for someone who speaks only in sarcasm. "My family's gonna meet my husband!"

Jack, who's been unresponsive and cuddled adorably into Davey's shoulder all night, sits up and gasps at that.

"Oh my god," he says, grinning with excitement for his best friends. "Really? That's amazing!"

Poor Elmer, who's still new to the friend group and out of the loop on most things, raises a hand to interject.

"Aren't you married?" he asks, from where he's sitting on the floor, halfway on Albert's lap. "Like, not to intrude, but why is this just happening now?"

Spot and Race look to each other for a moment and then laugh.

"I guess I lost the accent so no one can tell anymore," giggles Race. "Pretty much my whole family lives in Italy. We haven't been able to afford flights and time off work and school, so Spot's never met my parents or my brothers and sisters in person."

"We FaceTime them a lot though," adds Spot. "They like me better than him."

Race smacks Spot on the arm and Spot sticks his tongue out in response. Davey smiles fondly because those two honestly act like _children_ , and it's hard to believe they're actually married.

"That's so cool!" says Elmer, his face lighting up. "Did you come here for school?"

Race seems to be debating if he wants to get into the whole, long-winded story of why he lives an ocean away from his family, and he settles for a quick summary of it.

"It's a long story, but we moved here for my dad's job when I was eight. Some shit happened at home— my grandma got sick and there was a ton of family drama when I was fourteen, so my parents moved home with my little brothers and sisters. I ended up staying here with my older sister and her husband so I could stay at the ballet school I was in."

As Elmer asks more excited questions, Davey notices Jack burrowing back into his side, resting his head on Davey's shoulder.

"You okay?" whispers Davey, reaching up to touch Jack's cheek gently. Thankfully he's not feverish, something Davey's been nervous of in the past few days.

Jack nods, sighing softly.

"Just kinda tired," he mumbles in response. "I'm fine."

He cracks a strained smile when Davey twists his head to look at him. Davey makes a mental note to give him a good, warm hug later, once they're alone.

He tunes back into the conversation, where Elmer has revealed that he grew up in Poland, which finally explains his slight accent, and he and Race are now bonding over being immigrants as their respective boyfriends-slash-husbands watch and laugh.

"How was your English when you came here?" Race asks. "I was _clueless_. Didn't know a word. Dance was the only thing I could figure out, since ballet is the same anywhere in the world."

Elmer laughs.

"I did English classes in school," he says, "since I've always kind of wanted to come here. I came here for a while on exchange in high school and got my English really good, so I was ready when I got here for university."

The conversation keeps turning from there as the night goes on, from stupid childhood stories to favourite movies, and everyone is about ready to head to bed by just after midnight.

Albert and Elmer go home, and Spot and Race take Davey's room, as usual. Davey and Jack tag team on washing and drying the few dirty dishes and then head to Jack's room to turn in for the night.

-

Davey is laying in Jack's bed, in just his pyjama pants, scrolling through Instagram while Jack washes up and brushes his teeth in the bathroom.

He likes a selfie of Race and Elmer staring hard-faced at the camera, and rolls his eyes at the caption.

_**tony.higgins:** we out here being from other countries n shit #immigrantsquad4lyfe_

He types out a quick comment, because bullying Race is what he does best.

_**davidjacobs:** sorry bitch he's mine #jewishsquad_

A reply from Elmer comes moments later.

_**thatkidelmer:** @davidjacobs @tony.higgins i love my immigrant dad and jewish dad equally we're a diverse af family_

Davey laughs to himself at that, scrolls for a bit longer, and then locks his phone and sets it down when Jack comes into the room, looking utterly exhausted and defeated.

"You feeling okay, Jackie?" he asks, keeping his tone soft and pulling back the blankets on Jack's side of the bed. "Had a rough day?"

Jack nods, breathing deeply, like if he starts to talk he might have a meltdown. He's a little shaky as he climbs into bed, and he doesn't even have to ask before curling up in Davey's arms and just _clinging_ onto him.

"Hey..." whispers Davey, rubbing gently up and down Jack's back. This is more intimate than what's normal for them— they're both shirtless, in nothing but pyjama pants, cuddled up in Jack's bed. Davey's not sure what to think. "What's wrong? Do you want to talk?"

It takes Jack a long time to respond. He's taking long, deliberate, deep breaths, clearly trying to calm down.

"Yeah..." he says, after a while. His voice is quiet and shaky and Davey hugs him a little tighter. "I gotta..." He sighs softly. "I wanna talk to you. I'm gonna tell you about something and I just need you to listen, okay?"

Thankfully, it's dark in the room and Jack can't see the way Davey frowns in concern. Clearly there's something more than a little ball of anxiety behind Jack's mood all day.

"Okay," replies Davey. "I can do that. Just listening."

"It's not a good story," mumbles Jack, and he pauses to take yet another deep breath. "It's... bad. But I need to tell you. So if I start crying or some shit, just don't judge me please."

Davey grows a little more worried, but nods anyways.

"I would never judge you," says Davey, sincerely. "Only for putting peanut butter and pickles on toast. I'll judge you for that."

After a weak laugh and another long pause, Jack starts to speak.

"When you asked me at the hospital if my parents hurt me, y'know, _physically_ , when they kicked me out, and I told you they didn't... I was lying." He goes quiet for a second and swallows heavily. "I've never told anyone but Medda and the cops this story, of what actually happened, but I want you to know. It's been bugging me ever since you asked."

So that's why Jack's been so weird today.

Davey can't say he's _entirely_ surprised that Jack's parents had done something to him that night. He can remember Jack wearing long sleeves for a long time, always quick to try and cover himself up when his sleeves or the hem of his shirt rode up. He remembers poor Jack flinching at every sudden movement for months after moving into foster care.

Even though he'd guessed it, this is still painful, having it confirmed.

"If it's too much and you want to stop," interjects Davey, "you can. Only say as much as you want to, Jackie."

Jack nods into Davey's chest, but when Jack Kelly sets his mind to something, there's no turning back. He's going to tell the whole story.

"Things were bad to start with. It was awful at home," he says, his voice small like he's not sure he wants Davey to hear him. "My mom was hooked on these painkillers— I don't know what they were. She was on them to help with pain after she had some kind of surgery, but she just never stopped taking them, and started using them to get high. And my dad was drinking a shit ton, trying to cope with that. They were really young when I was born, too. Like, in high school. I just don't think they were meant to be parents."

It's incredible to Davey that Jack doesn't sound like he's holding on to any hatred for his parents. There's still a hint of love in his voice, like he knows they really were trying, but he just wasn't born into a good situation to start with; like things might've been better if their lives had played out differently.

"We were so poor," continues Jack, who's still laying on Davey's chest, eyes squeezed shut, holding tightly onto him. "Because all the money went to booze and pills. We couldn't always buy food, and we were on the streets for a while when I was a kid. It was bad. I hated those fucking homeless shelters and I just wanted my own room, or anything that could be _mine_. We finally got an apartment that we could afford— the shitty one I was living in when you and I met in high school."

Davey hadn't know that. He feels a shiver down his spine at the thought of a younger Jack living in shelters and going hungry. He's so thankful for all they have now, that they don't have to worry about that.

"And..." He trails off and has to force himself to continue. "My dad wasn't a really friendly guy, I guess. The alcohol made it worse, he got violent and treated my mom and me like shit. She was high off her ass most of the time and didn't even know what was going on." He pauses once more to breathe deeply, and then reveals something Davey had suspected, but had been praying wasn't true. "He didn't hit me much— only if I was being annoying or loud, or if I was in the way when something made him really mad. It was bad, but... it could've been a lot worse."

Jack hasn't started crying yet, but Davey can feel himself tearing up. He just wants Jack to be happy, more than anything in the world, and the fact that he had to grow up like this— with a dad who hit him and a mom who didn't care— just isn't fair.

He hugs Jack just a little tighter and swallows the lump in his throat. He'd promised just to listen, but it's hard not to speak up. He's not sure what he wants to say, but anything would be better than sitting here in silence.

"So then, that night that everything went to shit..." Jack trails off and shudders like he's trying desperately not to cry. He hides his face in Davey's chest for moment, calming himself. "That night... I didn't think they were gonna be home. I thought we were _safe_."

It's quiet for another moment, and then Davey's heart breaks when he feels Jack's tears against his bare chest.

"Jack..." he whispers. "You don't have to do keep going. It's okay, you can stop."

Jack shakes his head, takes a breath to steady himself, and continues. He's crying as he talks and Davey just wishes he could make it better.

"Me and Morris, we were just hanging out, right? We were on the couch, watching a movie and, like, kissing and stuff."

Davey cringes a little at the mention of Jack's old boyfriend. He can't say he was very fond of Morris— the guy was several years older than Jack, a dick to all his friends, and although Jack couldn't see it at the time, Morris was shamelessly using him and definitely cheating. Davey couldn't stand him, but he won't dwell on that now, it's not important anymore.

"And then my parents got home," says Jack, his voice breaking on the last word. It sounds like it's physically hurting him to talk, but he's pushing through anyways. "They saw us making out and my dad _lost it_. He started screaming, and Morris bolted, and I was _alone_ with my parents freaking out."

Jack's crying a little harder and Davey can do nothing but rub his back and try to silently comfort him, which is difficult when Davey is barely holding it together himself.

Jack needs to catch his breath before he can continue, and when he speaks, it's a whisper.

"He beat the _shit_ out of me. And my mom just watched. I couldn’t do anything to stop it.” He stops to let out a sob and Davey’s heart breaks into pieces. “That’s why I was away from school for so long… I had broken ribs, a concussion, and _so many_ bruises. Medda, once I moved from the hospital to her house, let me stay home as long as I needed, since I didn’t want anyone to know what really happened. Only her and Spot saw me in really bad shape. I didn’t want you to see… and think I was weak.”

This is the last straw for Davey and tears start rolling down his cheeks. They're both crying now— an absolutely pitiful sight.

"I'm so sorry, Jackie," whispers Davey, because he doesn't know what else to say. "You’re not weak. You didn't deserve that. You're amazing, and strong, and..."

_And I'm in love with you_.

Davey trails off before he can say something he'll regret.

It's quiet apart from their soft crying for a long while. It's the middle of the night and even the city outside is nearly silent. Spot and Race are sleeping across the hall, completely clueless.

"I need you to pretend I never told you this," mumbles Jack, once they're both significantly more calm and starting to fall asleep. "Just act like this never happened. Don't treat me any different."

Davey doesn't know how that's even going to be possible, but he nods anyways.

"Okay," he whispers back as he feels Jack's breathing start to slow to a steady, sleepy rhythm. "I can do that." He pauses, brushing his fingers gently through Jack's hair. "Thank you for trusting me, Jackie. It means a lot."

Jack doesn't answer, but Davey knows he was heard. He watches Jack fall asleep, moonlight from the window falling over his bare back, and doesn't even try to ignore the little tug in his heart.

He's in love with everything about Jack, even the parts that make him cry his eyes out in the middle of the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so… that was that. let me know if you cried as much as i did. 
> 
> more should be coming soonish— hopefully a lil fluffy chapter to calm us all down in between heartbreaks. 
> 
> comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!


	9. you make it easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> everything is nice, and good, and happy.
> 
> (the calm before the storm, maybe?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi so i’m in the bath right now after a dance competition (where i placed 3rd overall if anyone cares :D) and a ceilidh and this chapter is very sweet and lovely
> 
> only content warning, we get a little flashback at a sad time in davey’s life, but i don’t want to spoil it right here. if you were able to read jack’s bit you’ll likely be just fine with this. feel free to message me and double check if you want. 
> 
> enjoy this chapter! and keep in mind— i don’t usually like when authors include song lyrics within the story, unless they have some meaning to them ;)

_One day to the wedding._

 

Davey wakes up a few minutes before his alarm is meant to go off and he's not sure he's ever been so warm, comfortable, and reluctant to get out of bed.

He and Jack are still tangled together and they've found their way into an even tighter cuddle than they'd fallen asleep in. Jack is practically on top of Davey, snoring softly into chest; the blankets are cozy and their body heat is even cozier. You know those mornings when you're just so comfy and you want to stay right where you are forever? That's about how Davey's feeling.

He lets his fingers run instinctively through Jack's messy hair as his eyes gradually adjust to the dim light in the room. The sun is just rising and there's thin streams of sunlight coming in through the cracks in the blinds, falling across Jack's bare shoulders in the most picturesque way. If Davey had a camera with him, this would certainly make a nice photo.

 _7:24 AM_ , reads the digital clock on Jack's bedside table. They're leaving at nine o'clock to drive with Spot and Race to Niagara Falls, New York for the wedding, and Davey has yet to pack. So, he really does need to get up soon— ideally when his alarm goes off in six minutes.

In the meantime, his brain is mulling over all that Jack told him last night. Everything that happened— it's _awful_ — but Davey just can't understand why Jack was so committed to him not knowing. He's touched that Jack trusts him with it now, but it does sting a little that it hasn't always been the case.

Davey knows he's being irrational in thinking this way, but he can't really help it. If he's entirely honest, he's— albeit a bit selfishly— somewhat gutted that he's always been so open with Jack and he didn't get that in return. Jack was the first person he came out to; the first one he told when he started dating a boy in their senior year of high school; and the first he told when things when horribly, horribly south with that boy. Davey's got his fair share of— comparatively minor— skeletons in the closet, but Jack has known about every single one of them since the beginning. 

Thinking back now, this does explain why Jack had been so, so desperate to pull Davey out of that bad relationship, though. The guy Davey was with was in college and was literally everything Davey aspired to be. He was incredibly smart and already had an internship with a tech company. That's probably why Davey ignored the behaviours that were so clearly abusive— he was obsessed with this guy and thoroughly convinced he was in love.

Jack had freaked out when he found out how poorly Davey was being treated. When Davey had quietly admitted that he was often mocked and talked down to and pressured into sex, Jack had been firm in trying to convince Davey to end the relationship.

Davey, however, had been adamant in saying that he was in love and it was going to be fine, and Jack had respected that for a time. It was when Davey showed up at Jack's bedroom window one night with a variety of bruises that Jack snapped.

-

_"It was my fault," says Davey, grabbing desperately onto Jack's arm to stop him from going to wake Medda up. "I wasn't listening to him, he got mad. But then I got scared and I ran, and I can't go home like this. Just let me get cleaned up."_

_Jack groans exasperatedly. This is the first time he and Davey have ever properly fought._

_"Jesus Christ, are you hearing yourself!?" he exclaims, wrenching his arm out of Davey's grasp. "Your boyfriend just beat the shit out of you because you didn't want to have sex! God, Davey, you're underage, too! He's a pedophile and he's abusing you!"_

_Davey, overcome with anger, shoves Jack forcefully at that._

_"Don't say that! He's not a pedophile!"_

_Jack shoves back, causing Davey to stumble backwards and fall on Jack's bed._

_"Then what is he?" questions Jack. "What do you call a twenty-four year-old that beats up a seventeen year-old because he wants to have sex? You're a fucking child! He's an actual predator! He's abusive and I don't know how you don't see it!" Jack pauses for a moment, breathing heavily, and tries to calm down. When he continues, his voice is much softer. "I just want you to be safe. Let me get Medda to help clean you up. We need to tell your parents and get you out. This isn't okay— look at you."_

_Davey looks down at the bruises forming on his arms in the shapes of strong fingers. He notices the blood on his wrists from where rough fingernails had broken skin. He becomes increasingly aware of the awful ache in his jaw from where he'd been slapped across the face. He breaks down in frustrated tears._

_"Davey..." whispers Jack, sitting down next to Davey and taking his hands in his own. "You're gonna be okay. We're gonna get you out of this. You just have to trust me."_

_When Davey can't speak and starts crying a little harder, Jack wraps him up in a hug. Davey tries to push him away at first, but eventually relents and collapses into the embrace._

_"I promise, Davey," says Jack, squeezing tight onto his best friend. "It's gonna be okay. You deserve so much better. You deserve everything good. You deserve all the love in the world, and you'll find someone to give it to you. It's all gonna be okay."_

-

It's crazy how far they've come.

Davey had been angry with Jack for a while, unable to feel anything but sheer betrayal when Jack had told Medda what was happening, who'd immediately called Davey's parents and explained. With time, though, he'd seen that Jack really hadn't meant to hurt him. He was only helping.

Davey is pulled out of his thoughts when Jack mumbles something under his breath in his sleep. He always does this— never talks loud enough to be understood, but talks nonetheless.

Jack looks incredibly peaceful when he's asleep, Davey notes. He's not quite smiling, but the corners of his mouth are ever-so slightly upturned and his features are softened. It's nice to see him so calm and relaxed.

Davey kind of really, _really_ wants to kiss him.

The alarm is going to go off soon, so Davey decides just to relish this moment of peace and quiet. Everything is good and warm and soft, and he and Jack are finally in a good place, away from any kind of abuse and horror. This is good. Life is good.

Davey's thoughts are, once again, interrupted by Jack.

"What're you smiling about, Davey-boy?" comes Jack's sleepy, raspy voice as he starts to come to consciousness— Davey hadn’t even noticed him wake up. Jack yawns and has a clear struggle in not going back to sleep. "Somethin' funny?"

Davey hadn't realized he was smiling, but he owns it and smiles a little bigger when he ruffles Jack's hair.

"Nothing funny," he says, far too cheerily for anyone this early in the morning. "I'm just happy."

-

They end up hitting the road almost right on time, locking up the apartment at exactly 9:03 AM.

" _Road trip_!" screeches Race as they pile into Jack's old, beat-up truck. "I'm ready, boys! Can we stop at Starbucks?"

Race is holding a pillow, a blanket, and a backpack full of snacks and distractions as he clambers into the back seat. You see, as soon as he's in a vehicle for any amount of time, he becomes a literal child that starts to fall apart if not entertained. Davey and Spot have worked together to pack him a bag of activities and food— colouring books, a variety of cookies, a movie or two on his laptop, and so on— to hopefully keep him quiet for at least _part_ of the seven hour drive. It's a plan fit for a toddler, but it seems promising enough.

"I'm with Racer," says Spot as he follows his husband into the back seat. "I want a frappuccino."

Davey takes shotgun and Jack climbs into the driver's seat. All their bags are secured in the bed of the truck, along with a few boxes that Sarah had asked them to bring up because the girls had run out of room in their trunk.

"We'll get Starbucks now," says Jack as he starts the engine and the old truck sputters to life. "But we aren't stopping again until lunch."

Spot and Race, content with this answer, get to work on building themselves a blanket nest in the back seat as the truck pulls onto the road.

"Do we have to babysit them _all weekend_?" asks Jack, under his breath. "I don't think I can do it."

Davey laughs and looks at the boys in the rear view mirror. They've tangled themselves together somehow and are unravelling a pair of earbuds to share.

"Just until the rehearsal dinner tonight," he says. "It's only for family and the wedding party, they're not invited."

Davey can only giggle as Jack lets out a dramatic sigh of relief.

-

This truck is so old that it doesn't even have an AUX cable. Each of the boys has made a CD to play and they've already been through Spot's: mostly consisting of Kendrick Lamar and other similar artists, as well as the most god-awful Youtuber diss-tracks that Davey's ever heard.

They're two hours into the drive, and Davey is switching over to Jack's mix.

"You're not allowed to skip any songs," says Jack, eyes glued to the highway. "I like all of them, and I'm driving so I'm in charge."

The disc takes a second to spin and then starts blasting: _Like a rainy Sunday morning makes me want to stay in bed, twisted up all day long..._

Davey groans.

"God, I forgot you like country music," he grumbles. "Please don't say that's all you put on the CD."

Jack just grins mischeviously as he starts to sing along, keeping his eyes on the road but very clearly playing for Davey's attention. Thankfully, Spot and Race are oblivious, too wrapped up in their own little bubble in the back.

" _You're my inspiration, girl_ ," croons Jack. " _You take me places, put the words right into these songs_."

Davey will admit that Jack has a really good voice for country. As much distaste as he has for the genre, he doesn't mind it when Jack's singing.

" _Stealing kisses undercover, babe; see forever when I see your face; and I swear God made you for me..._ "

Jack's doing the play-flirting thing now, taking one hand off the wheel to reach over and cup Davey's cheek.

" _You make it easy loving up on you; make it easy with every little thing you do_ ," he sings, as much in Davey's direction as he can without getting distracted from the road. Davey blushes and rolls his eyes, which only encourages Jack. " _You're my sunshine in the darkest days; my better half, my saving grace; you make me who I wanna be. You make it easy..._ "

This goes on for another verse, bridge and chorus, while Davey just gets redder and redder, and tries not to fall deeper in love.

" _Ew_ ," whispers Race, in the back, seemingly thinking Davey can't hear him. "Look at them. They're flirting."

"Shut up," replies Spot, who's equally bad at whispering. "It's cute. I always knew they'd get together."

Again, with people saying they've always known. What is it about Jack and Davey's friendship that makes everyone think they're meant to be?

"Jack's fuckin' head over heels for him," giggles Race. "You seen the way he looks at him?"

Davey really tries to pay attention to Jack's impromptu performance and not the conversation going on behind him, but it's easier said than done.

"Heart eyes all day," agrees Spot. "He's in love if I've ever seen it. They're both such dorks that it kinda makes me happy."

Spot and Race are quiet for a moment, and then Race says: "What do you think their sex is like?"

Okay, that's enough. That's _enough_. It's not like Davey's never thought about it, but he does not need to hear Spot and Race's opinions on it.

"Hey, Race!" he says as the song fades out, trying to make a totally inconspicuous topic change. "Do you still have Oreos? I want some."

Race launches a pack of Oreos at the back of Davey’s head. He should’ve seen that coming.

Davey spends the next hour or two snacking on and feeding Jack cookies, and suffering through country music. The same feeling as he’d had while laying bed that morning washes over him again. He’s happy and warm and safe and feels like this is how life’s supposed to be right now.

In fact, there’s nowhere else in the world that Davey Jacobs would rather be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for everyone who’s begged me to let the boys be happy— they are. even with all they’ve been through and are going through now, they can still find the good parts to hang onto and enjoy. 
> 
> reading comments honestly lights up my day, so leave one if you’d like? 
> 
> thank you for reading!


	10. can’t get enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the moment you’ve all been waiting for— sort of. 
> 
> ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we’re getting into the last few chapters and things are… picking up. our poor boys just keep on making bad decisions, don’t they?
> 
> warning for this one: i don’t want to spoil anything, but all i can say is ;;)))  
> y’all know what i mean.
> 
> (nothing graphic i promise!)
> 
> also— further apologies for jack’s potty mouth. he has some choice words about the pulitzers. 
> 
> sorry for the wait, i got a bit stuck while writing this one! i just really want it all to work out how i pictured!
> 
> enjoy!!!

_One day to the wedding._

 

Sometimes Davey isn't sure if he loves or hates his older sister. Today, he definitely loves her and her beautiful bride-to-be.

After seven hours of driving and trying to entertain their childish friends, he and Jack are standing in the doorway of the fanciest hotel room either of them have ever seen— a surprise engagement gift from Sarah and Kath. The girls had secretly upgraded Jack and Davey's room for the weekend to an enormous, gorgeous suite and surprised them as they checked in to the hotel.

Davey feels somewhat bad, considering that they've received this lavish, expensive gift for nothing more than a big lie, but he's not going to complain. Neither he nor Jack are used to having nice things— they both grew up fairly poor and they're now broke college grads with mountains of student loans. It could be nice to spend a weekend in luxury, probably mostly courtesy of Katherine's incredibly rich family.

"Holy _fuck_ ," says Jack, as he wanders further into the room and peers around the corner into the bathroom. "There's a hot tub in our hotel room! This is crazy."

While Jack looks around the bathroom, Davey heads from the living area— which is wild to have in a hotel room in the first place— to the bedroom. His jaw drops.

"Jack..." he calls over his shoulder, taking in the sight in front of him. "You gotta come see this."

First of all, there's a big bed that looks like the most comfortable thing Davey's ever seen, with an overflowing gift basket sitting in the middle of it. Somehow, that's not even the best part.

Behind the bed is a glass wall, overlooking the Niagara Falls. They're on one of the highest floors of this hotel and the view is _insane_. Davey just might start crying.

Jack enters the room with a very similar reaction.

"Shit..." he says, after a moment. "Not to sound like a cheesy old lady, but that's fucking _breathtaking_. We owe those girls about a million favours now, don't we?"

Davey nods and laughs, still staring out at the view.

"They've got us wrapped around their little fingers for a while, I figure," he says. "It's worth it, though."

It takes mere moments for the primal human urge to get the better of Jack, prompting him to dart forward and dive onto the plush bed. He bellyflops into the cloud-like blankets, narrowly missing knocking over the gift basket, and sighs happily.

Davey rolls his eyes and pulls both their suitcases into the room. He leaves them next to the dresser and joins Jack on the bed.

"Aww, look," says Jack, who's laying on his stomach, already removing the cellophane wrap from around the basket. He holds up a little note card with some fancy script. " _Soon you'll be hearing wedding bells, so your favourite sisters wish you well._ That's so cute! Damn, maybe we should actually just get married, if we'll keep getting presents."

Davey laughs and sits crosslegged next to Jack, digging into the basket together. There's a bottle of champagne, some fancy chocolates, matching his-and-his coffee mugs— they go through everything while chattering excitedly about each item.

Just as Davey thinks the basket is empty and he picks it up to put it away, he takes one last look inside and his eyes go wide.

"Those crazy bitches," he says, rolling his eyes as he pulls out the last two items that had been hidden in the bottom: a bottle of lube and a pack of condoms. He tosses them on the bed and Jack bursts into laughter.

"Hey, they want us to be safe!" says Jack through giggles. "I appreciate the thought!"

They move the lube and condoms to the bedside table, either to be thrown out or for one of them to keep for future endeavours.

"Okay," says Davey, actually moving the basket out of the way now. "The rehearsal dinner is in two hours. We could go explore until then, or just chill out here."

Jack, who's still getting over being sick last week and has just been driving all day, seems rather unenthusiastic at the idea of leaving this very, _very_ comfy bed. He makes this known with a quiet groan that fades into a pitiful little cough.

"I might just nap," he says, his face buried in the blankets. "I'm exhausted. You could always go see what Spot and Race are doing?"

Davey tries not to noticeably wince at that.

"Look, I _really_ do love those two," he says, causing Jack to laugh as his awkwardness. "But I just sat in a truck with them for seven hours. I've had enough of them for one day. Maybe I'll nap too."

Jack chuckles and twists himself around on the bed so that his head is actually on the pillows now. He holds out an arm, inviting Davey to lay next to him.

"Hop in, Davey-boy," he says. Davey does, and literally sighs in relief at the comfort of the blankets. Jack wraps himself around Davey like a koala and grins. "Aren't you excited to have to share a bed with me for two nights in a row?"

Davey just pats Jack's head and rolls his eyes. He's not a touchy guy and it took him a long time to adjust to Jack's constant need to be cuddled, but he's used to it now and doesn't push him away.

"Of course," he says, his tone sarcastic but his heart fully serious, "I love when you crush me in the middle of the night. There's no one I'd rather share with."

-

Two hours later, they're in an elevator down to the hotel restaurant for dinner with the families of the brides.

"I know you don't like Katherine's sisters, but you have to keep the shade to a minimum," says Davey, while fixing the collar of Jack's shirt. "The tea stays in the group chat with the boys."

Jack stares at Davey for a moment with that same infatuated look that Davey can't quite decipher, and then snorts and shakes his head.

"God, you're _so_ fucking gay," he says, prompting Davey to smack him on the shoulder.

"I'm _serious_!" whines Davey while Jack just giggles even more at how high-pitched Davey's voice just went. "Jack, you have to be nice, okay?"

You see, Jack and Kath dated in high school. They were sophomores while Katherine's older sister, Lucy, was a senior. Unfortunately, nearly everyone at the school was aware of the rough patch that Jack had just been through, and Lucy couldn't stand to watch her sister go out with _a boy like that_. She'd informed her family about Jack's whole situation and they'd instantly begin to disapprove of the relationship. As much as Jack and Kath really had liked each other, the pressure from her family had inevitably broken them up.

"It's not my fault Lucy's a bitch and her dad is a cunt," grumbles Jack, despite Davey's warning glare. "He was my boss when I had that internship at a newspaper, remember? He made my life _hell_ until I got him written up for harassment— because he had the grossest, rudest nicknames for me and he'd always make mean comments about me liking boys— and then he _fired_ me!"

Davey puts his hands on Jack's shoulders and stares him down for a second, waiting for him to focus.

"Deep breath," he says, and Jack dutifully obeys, breathing in and out to calm himself down. "If he says anything tonight— just remember that he's old and crusty, and you're young and hot. You're winning. He's salty because you're so much better than him. He’s shook. He’s _quaking_. Own it."

With that, the elevator doors open and the boys walk out. Inspired by his own words, Davey takes Jack's hand and marches forward with a power stride, not about to let old Joe Pulitzer ruin his night. Jack speeds up so that he can lean into Davey's side and whispers:

"I Facebook stalked Lucy. She does _not_ know how to do her eyebrows. They look like sperm. I'm doing so much better than her."

-

Dinner is finished and Davey's never been this drunk with his family in the same room, but he's greatly enjoying it.

This is probably what officially being an adult is— you can get wine drunk with your parents and still have a good time.

Mr. and Mrs. Pulitzer have thankfully gone up to their hotel room by now, after an evening of subtly antagonizing Jack through sly comments, to which Davey found himself getting snarkier and ruder in response.

Fortunately though, Kath's sisters— even Lucy— have mellowed out in the years since Jack and Davey have seen them, so with the older Pulitzers gone, everyone is having a nice time.

Jack and Davey are playing things up, _a lot_. It's sort of instinct by now to lean into each other and be all cozy, but the more alcohol they consume, they more they figure they should act up. They can't have anyone getting suspicious, right?

"Davey..." whispers Jack, leaning into Davey’s side and giggling a little to himself. "Did I ever tell you... you're really cute?"

This is drunk Jack. He's a relentless little flirt with literally all of his friends, but always Davey in particular. He's not nearly as bad as Race, who can start on impromptu poetry about the colour of Jack's eyes or the texture of Davey's hair after two drinks, but Jack does have a charming streak when he's intoxicated.

"Well thanks, Jackie," replies Davey, ruffling Jack's hair. “I think you’re pretty cute too. Maybe we oughta get married or something.”

Jack blushes and bursts into giggles, hiding his face in Davey’s neck. It’s then that Davey notices Katherine, definitely the drunkest one here, watching them from across the table.

“Kiss him,” she whisper-yells to Davey. “I’ve never seen you kiss— do it! On the lips!”

Sarah turns to Katherine from where she’d been chatting with Lucy and her sperm-shaped eyebrows, and frowns.

“What are you bothering them with?” she asks, sliding an arm around her fiancée. Her eyes land on just how closely Davey and Jack are pressed together and she smiles.

“They’re gonna kiss,” whispers Kath, excitedly. “I want to see it.”

Davey’s only _slightly_ panicked. He’s never kissed Jack on the mouth before, aside from that time as teenagers, because when they’d started this they’d been firm in keeping to their supposed dislike of PDA. Unfortunately, the wine in his system is telling him that kissing Jack would be a fantastic idea. All the more convincing, right?

He puts a gentle hand on Jack’s chin to pull the adorable, still-giggling idiot out of his neck and get them facing each other.

“C’mere, you fucking dork,” he grumbles fondly, before softly pressing his lips against Jack’s.

They both pause as soon as their mouths are connected. This is nice— nicer than expected. They’re both a little unsure of what to do, but neither of them wants to be the first to pull back.

Davey’s heart nearly pounds out of his chest when Jack grabs his chin and deepens the kiss. They’re both drunk, this is a horrible idea, but it’s just so goddamn pleasant that Davey doesn’t even care.

This goes on for just a moment longer until Sarah interjects with: “Alright boys! We got you a fancy hotel room for a reason! Slow down!”

Davey and Jack both pull back with a start. They stare at each other with wide eyes for a second, as if they can’t really process what just happened.

“Is it weird that that was kinda hot?” asks Katherine, to which Sarah just gently shushes her.

Jack is the first to snap out of the trance they’re in and laughs softly, pinching Davey’s cheek.

“You’re a good kisser,” he says, flawlessly resuming his flirting once again. “We should do that again sometime.”

There’s something in Jack’s tone that doesn’t sound so playful anymore. Instead of bouncing right into another joke, he locks eyes with Davey for a moment, hesitant.

“Yeah…” breathes Davey, nodding and grinning. “Yeah, we should.”

-

They do.

It’s in the elevator back up to their room.

Really, it sort of reminds Davey of smoking weed for the first time. It feels wrong, like he _knows_ he shouldn’t be doing it and that he might regret it later on, but there’s just something good about it that keeps him coming back.

Not that Davey’s a pothead or anything— he doesn’t smoke much at all. But when he does light up with the boys, he enjoys it quite a lot.

Anyways. So, not to be _too_ cliché, but kissing Jack is kind of like a drug, in the very best way.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” whispers Davey, while Jack has him pressed up against the elevator wall. He turns his head for a moment to escape Jack and actually be able to talk. “We’re gonna regret this tomorrow, aren’t we?”

Jack leans up close enough that Davey can feel his warm, alcohol-scented breath in his face. He smirks and it’s literally the _hottest_ thing Davey’s ever experienced.

“You gonna stop me?” he replies. “Who cares about tomorrow? Let’s have fun _now_.”

Before Davey knows it, they’re kissing again. It’s not soft and sweet like in the restaurant, or even on Finch’s porch, nine years ago.

It’s _hot_. It’s agressive and desperate, like ages worth of repressed feelings being pushed out all at once.

_No regrets_ , Davey thinks to himself. He keeps up the mantra as they stumble out of the elevator and into their hotel room, resuming their kissing against the back of the door; even as clothes start to come off, forming a vague trail towards the bedroom. _Seize the fucking day._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well... that happened. 
> 
> these boys are idiots. 
> 
> please leave a comment if you enjoyed it! i never get around to replying, but i read them all and they make my day! the positivity definitely inspires me to keep writing!
> 
> i think we’re probably looking at two more chapters? but a sequel is definitely a possibility! i really miss writing canon era while i’ve been focusing so much on this, so there may or may not be a canon era one shot of some kind soon? i don’t know. 
> 
> thanks for reading!!!!


	11. now look at where we are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sad boys are sad again. finally a look from jack’s pov in this one!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is like, chapter 11 part one??? a lot more was supposed to fit into chapter 11 but i decided to use both boys’ pov and it worked out to be very long!! i thought i’d cut it off here and get this posted, and post the rest as another chapter when it’s done! 
> 
> can you believe this was originally only supposed to be 10 chapters?? we’re looking at probably 13 now!
> 
> the warning for this chapter— jack’s anxiety makes a pretty ugly appearance at the end of this one, please be careful if that’s going to make you anxious!
> 
> otherwise, enjoy this pining-fest!!!

_The day of the wedding._

 

  
Jack's not there when Davey wakes up.

There's a hastily scribbled note on his side of the bed, reading: _went to the gym_. There's an open condom wrapper on the floor, and Davey's feeling stiff in places that he doesn't want to mention.

Well, fuck.

He runs a hand over his face as he sighs. He wasn't blackout drunk— he knows exactly what happened. He remembers kissing Jack, and getting undressed, and moving to the bed, and, well... all of it. He remembers knowing damn well that they were making a mistake, and that he knew this would happen— things would be awkward and he'd be alone.

Davey can't even really process his disappointment at the outcome as he sits by himself in this majestic hotel room. He kind of just feels numb.

Somewhere deep down, he'd been holding onto hope that Jack would stay and they could laugh it off. They could pretend it never even happened. It was just for fun, right? That's all any of this is— they're just supposed to be having some stupid fun.

Well, Davey isn't having fun anymore.

No, Davey is sitting on a gigantic hotel room bed, with tears welling up in his eyes. He doesn't want to cry over this— he'd known exactly what he was getting into and he'd been sure he could handle it— but he just can't help it. He's heartbroken and it's his own fault.

He's in love with Jack and he'd finally gotten a taste of what he wanted: the kissing and the sex and all the cuddles afterward. But it's all come around full-circle to kick him in the ass, because who the hell was he to think he could ever end up in a good relationship, or anything even close to one? Davey got his own hopes up and he's only got himself to blame.

He covers his eyes and bites his lip to hold back a sob, as tears run down his face. He's being ridiculous and he knows it— he can hear his own mother's voice in his head telling him to grow up, to stop crying and suck it up. As kind and caring as she was, she'd never been a fan of unnecessary tears from any of her children. Davey had always been the worst culprit, crying over everything from minor scrapes to the fear that he might've accidentally hurt someone's feelings. He's always just had a lot of emotions, it's part of who he is.

Davey rubs at his eyes aggressively and shakes his head. There's no way his mother would let him cry over a stupid boy who doesn't deserve it.

You know what? This isn't even his own fault— Jack's just an asshole who thought he could smash and dash. Jack's an asshole who didn't even stay to say good morning. Jack's an asshole and Davey is actually _really fucking mad at him._

Davey didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve to wake up alone in a fucking hotel room. He didn't deserve to have his heart played with, because there's no way whatever happened last night was strictly platonic. He didn't deserve to get roped into a fake fucking engagement, that's now spiralled into a lie bigger than either of them can handle.

Fuck this; fuck Jack; fuck fake relationships. Davey doesn't need any of it.

He wipes the tears from his eyes and steadies his breathing for a moment, before standing up from the giant bed and looking out the window at the waterfalls.

He'll go out by himself this morning and have a look around. He'll go for a walk, find somewhere for breakfast, and then be back in time to set up for the wedding.

Who needs Jack Kelly anyways?

 

-

 

Jack hates the gym.

He'll say it straight up. He _hates_ working out.

But what other excuse could he make for sneaking out early in the morning? Where else do people go, first thing when they get up? The gym had seemed like the only logical option, so here he is, half-heartedly curling dumbbells against his chest.

The details of last night are slightly hazy, but he's got a general idea of what happened.

They fucked up, essentially. They got drunk, they had sex, and they definitely shouldn't have done that. It's coming back to him in bits and pieces— every time he closes his eyes, he sees another flashback of sweaty skin on skin, and hot breath on his neck. _Jesus fucking Christ._

It was so much better than he'd ever imagined. Five years of daydreaming and fantasizing still can't prepare you for the real thing— not when it's someone like Davey, who's so _fucking_ hot, but also sweet and gentle and caring. Jack could never truly be prepared for Davey Jacobs, could he?

Jack has often wondered what kind of asshole walks out on someone after having sex. Apparently, he is that kind of asshole.

It's just... he wouldn't be able to handle waking up with him and not being allowed to kiss him good morning. He wouldn't be able to handle Davey laughing it off, like they'd just been messing around last night. Because they're just friends. It was probably just some stupid fun to Davey, but Jack feels like he's having his heart ripped out. If Davey were to look at him today, laugh and say _Let's just pretend that never happened_ , it would essentially be the equivalent of taking Jack's heart and stomping it into the ground.

This is bullshit, all of it. He sets down the weights he'd been using and sighs.

Five years of pining and wishing; and that's only since he _realized_ he was in love with Davey, while they sat in the bed of his truck, stargazing, on their road trip to New Mexico. He's spent five years wanting nothing but Davey— some nights spent hopeless and crying, others just happy they're best friends— and it had all culminated into last night.

And now Davey probably regrets it, and hates Jack for sneaking out before he even woke up.

_Great going, Jack. You really made good use of your one shot. Flawless execution of a fantastic plan. Have sex with him and leave— you're doing great!_

Before Jack can punch himself in his idiotic face, the door to the gym opens and catches his attention.

Of course it's Spot, coming in to use the hotel gym. He works out every morning— Jack should've anticipated that.

It doesn't take Spot long to notice Jack.

"Jesus Christ, did I just walk into another dimension?" teases Spot, who's in a tank top and gym shorts, carrying a towel and water bottle. "Jack Kelly is exercising? In the _morning_?"

It also doesn't take Spot long to notice how distraught Jack seems to be, and he softens immediately.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he asks. _Soft_ is a subjective term when it comes to Spot Conlon. "Davey kick you outta bed?"

Jack hesitates. He can't exactly tell the truth— that they had sex and now it's awkward— because Spot thinks they're engaged. It would be more shocking if they _didn't_ have sex.

"Something like that," he says, and then pauses to wrack his brain for a synonym for sex that'll make it sound like they fought. It's not technically lying if Spot just misinterprets the truth. "We really, uh, _had at it_ last night. Y'know, yelling and screaming and, like, pushing each other. We've never done that before. I snuck out before he woke up so that we wouldn't have to talk about it."

Now that was smooth. Jack mentally pats himself on the back for that one.

"Shit..." says Spot, wincing as he sets down his water and throws his towel over the back of a leg press machine. "What were you even fighting about?"

Jack shrugs, trying to keep things nondescript. His brother, however, is certain to press for information, so he offers just a bit.

"I don't know." He sighs and tries to stay vague. "We're both just stressed, I guess. All this wedding shit is freaking us out." He pauses, hesitating, and the decides he might as well plant the seed in Spot's mind to make their inevitable breakup more realistic. "Honestly, I almost just want to be friends again."

Spot frowns at that, like he's the one hurt by the idea.

"Don't say that," he says, firmly. "No you don't. You've got something real special here, you're not about to let it go."

That's the thing— going back to being friends is the absolute last thing Jack wants, but he knows it has to happen. They can't just keep this up forever.

"Okay, I don't _want_ it, but maybe it would be better." Jack picks up another, heavier set of weights to distract himself and begins pressing them above his head. "Easier, maybe."

He almost doesn't catch Spot rolling his eyes. It's quiet for a second as Spot thinks of what to say.

"Bullshit. You'd hate every minute of it. I've seen the way you look at him, you're in _love_. What the hell could've happened to make you think anything else?"

Jack suddenly drops the weights on the floor with a loud clatter. He's not having this conversation. He grabs the plastic water bottle he'd bought from the vending machine that morning and turns to leave.

"I'll see you later, Spot."

There's a coldness to his voice that he didn't think was possible, especially towards his little brother. He walks straight out of the gym and doesn't look back.

 

-

 

Davey's phone buzzes again on the table where he'd left it face-down, and he ignores it. He'd found a cozy little coffee shop, not too far from the falls, and he's settled in with a coffee, a bagel, and some music blasting through his headphones. It's nice. He doesn't mind his own company.

His phone buzzes yet again.

He sighs and checks it, rolling his eyes so hard they nearly fall out when he notices six texts in a row from Jack. He considers setting it back down and ignoring the messages, but curiosity gets the better of him and he unlocks the device.

 __ **Jackie** : i really hope you're not mad at me but i know you probably are  
**Jackie** : you'll hate me if i try to apologize over text so PLEASE come back and let me explain in person  
**Jackie** : also spot caught me being all mopey so the official story is that we had a fight last night  
**Jackie** : i said it was our first big one but that's all i told him  
**Jackie** : which isn't a lie because we've never had a big fight before  
**Jackie** : anyways you're probably ignoring me on purpose so i'll stop now but please let me apologize i'm in our hotel room

Davey doesn't respond. He sets his phone right back down and turns his music back up.

He'll let Jack suffer for a while.

 

-

 

Jack's original plan upon seeing Davey again had been that he'd confess how in love he is, and then explain all that had gone through his head in the morning. He'd say everything, starting from that night in Santa Fe, looking at the stars.

The longer it takes Davey to get back, the more Jack's confidence starts to dissipate. It would be stupid to tell him anyways. As if Davey could ever feel that way about someone like Jack, whose own fucking parents couldn't even love him. Jack, who's never had a stable relationship past regular hookups in his twenty-three years of life. Jack, who has a constant need for affection and reassurance, because he starts to doubt there's anyone who _doesn't_ hate him.

Jack knows he's basically impossible to love, so he's not sure what confessing to Davey would accomplish, other than pushing him away. Because who wants to deal with an unstable, anxious, traumatized mess like Jack?

When it comes nearly time to head downstairs and start setting up and Davey still hasn't shown, Jack is sitting in the hotel room bed, knee-deep in an anxiety-induced meltdown.

His breathing is coming out shallow and panicked before he can even stop it, and he can feel his heartbeat rising in his throat.

Davey hates him. That's why he's not back yet. Davey doesn't ever want to talk to him again.

Jack is hit with a wave of nausea so strong that he sprints to the bathroom, collapsing in front of the toilet.

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck_.

Jack can’t do anything right. He messes everything up because all he can think about is himself. He hadn’t even considered how Davey would feel, waking up alone. He’s such a fucking asshole.

Jack empties his guts into the toilet with a violent lurch of of his stomach. He’s hardly eaten today, so it’s mostly burning, acidic bile. When finished, he sits back against the wall and bursts into tears.

His chest feels tight and he’s shaking like a leaf. He presses his hands over his eyes and tries to breathe, but it’s proving to be nearly impossible.

He’ll be alright, though.

Jack has eased himself more than enough panic attacks. He’ll manage just fine by himself— he always does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jack :(  
> davey :(  
> even spot, he didn’t deserve to get snapped at :(
> 
> when davey decides to let jack suffer, he clearly doesn’t realize how heavy the implications of that are. does anyone have predictions of how they might bounce back from this?
> 
> thank you for reading and please please please keep on leaving comments! i love hearing what you all think of the story!


	12. it all comes back around to you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no warnings for this chapter!
> 
> i’m very excited and proud of this one so let’s skip the formalities! just read it!

_The day of the wedding._

 

  
Davey has been on his toes since he arrived back at the hotel to start setting up. His mother had handed him a clipboard of papers and plans and checklists, and then run off to deal with some kind of hair emergency in Sarah's hotel room. She'd promised to be back soon, and had left a very unprepared Davey in charge.

Somehow, Davey has found himself directing the entire set up, as everyone who'd offered to help had showed up just after his mother left. They have three hours to make sure that everything is perfect. Being in charge is actually just the distraction he needs— he hasn't even got the time to think about how angry he is with Jack, who has _not_ showed up yet. There's chairs to be arranged, flowers to be placed, an entire altar and chuppah— a canopy above the altar, an essential piece of Jewish weddings— to be put together.

"Spot and Race, you guys are on chairs," he says, eternally grateful that his friends had been willing to come help out. "Make rows of ten on either side of the aisle, facing the altar. They'll get turned around and set up at tables before the reception."

He receives two thumbs-up from each of them in response, and they immediately go off to get the stacks of chairs from the storage room. They seem to be treading lightly around Davey, both under the impression that he's bitter over a fight with his fiancé. If only they knew...

Luckily for Davey, Sarah and Katherine have chosen a minimalistic decor approach, so he's sure he can handle getting the altar ready by himself. His father is making sure the tables and, later on, the dance floor are ready for the reception; Katherine's dad is meeting with the caterers later and helping them get set up; a few of Davey's cousins are coming in to set up flowers and other decorations once all the chairs are out. Les is somewhere, probably helping Spot and Race with the chairs.

It's going to be fine.

Sure, this canopy would be easier to set up with some help from Jack, who's either running late or avoiding the situation entirely, but Davey's got almost everything under control.

He hadn't gone back up to their hotel room when he got back, as his mother had grabbed him basically as soon as he'd entered the lobby and given him a list of jobs to do.

And, of course, there's the fact that Jack had said he was waiting in the room. Call Davey petty, but he'd rather avoid dealing with the whole situation right now.

"David? I have a problem..." Well, _there's_ Les. He's standing before Davey with a rather sheepish look on his acne-ridden, teenage face. His hands are holding something behind his back, and that's never a good sign. "What do I do if I accidentally broke a chair?"

Les reveals a piece of wood that's definitely a leg of a chair from behind him. Davey pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs.

"Oh Jesus Christ… Spot and Race are in charge of chairs. Go ask them," he says, far too worried about getting this altar set up to deal with that. "You guys can figure it out."

 

-

 

Davey's mother returns after half an hour, and for some reason, she brings Jack with her. Where she found him is beyond Davey, but he honestly doesn't really care. He's busy.

"How are things, David?" she asks, approaching behind him and laying a hand on his back. "Everything looks great. I ran into your your boy in the elevator, so I thought I'd bring him to you."

In an attempt to avoid rousing any suspicions, Davey offers a curt wave to Jack, who waves back awkwardly.

"It's going great, Ma," he says, handing her back the clipboard and purposefully ignoring Jack. "I think we'll even be ready early!"

The chairs are almost finished being lined up in neat rows, and the flower order has just arrived and is being moved into the ballroom. The altar is really just a little table, so it's ready to go, and the posts for the canopy are standing tall. It's shaping up to be a beautiful arrangement.

“Alright,” replies Esther, taking a look at the checklist on the clipboard. “Why don’t you boys get this canopy up, then? I’ll be around somewhere if you need me.”

As his mother leaves, Davey turns to Jack, smiling in the fakest of ways.

“I think my cousins needed a hand with the flowers,” he says, watching the way Jack’s hopeful expression sort of just _crumples_. He feels somewhat bad, but he’s way too angry to work with Jack without constantly snapping at him and making things worse. It’s not even about waking up alone anymore, it’s about this whole lie and the disaster they’ve roped themselves into. He’s got more than a few questions that need answering, and now is not the time. “You should probably go help them.”

Jack smiles with his mouth but not with his eyes, clearly trying to hide his disappointment, and claps his hands together awkwardly. It breaks Davey’s heart, but he mentally kicks himself. _You’re mad at him, he should be upset_.

“Right…” mutters Jack, starting to back away. He jabs a thumb in the direction of the cluster of flower arrangements in the back of the room. “I’ll just… go do that, then. I’ll, uh, see you later?”

Davey nods, already turning around to get back to work.

“Yeah… later— and if you see Les, tell him to come help me with this canopy. It’s a two-person job.”

 

-

 

Avoiding Jack goes well until everything is finally set up and it’s time to go get ready for the actual wedding.

Somehow, they end up the only two people left in the ballroom, as people filter upstairs to their rooms to go do their hair and get dressed to the nines. Davey had been doing some final touches around the altar and hadn’t noticed Jack waiting around for him, obviously trying to get him alone so they can talk.

Davey makes a point of walking right past him when he finally does start to leave, which makes Jack audibly groan in frustration.

“Davey,” he says, and Davey just keeps power-walking towards the doors while Jack jogs to catch up with him. “Why are you doing this?”

Davey doesn’t look back.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replies, with no emotion to his voice.

“Avoiding me! You can’t just—” Jack groans exasperatedly. “Your sister’s getting married in two hours and everyone expects us to be a couple! You can’t just keep walking away from me!”

Davey slows down, subconsciously giving Jack time to catch up because he’s used to walking beside him, but he doesn’t turn around.

“Well, you sure had no problem avoiding _me_ this morning,” he snaps.

Jack sighs and Davey sort wants to slap him.

“Dave, you’re being ridiculous. If you’d just relax and—”

Davey stops short and spins around to face Jack, raising his eyebrows comically high.

“Oh, _I’m_ being ridiculous? Really?”

Jack strides right over to Davey, and it seems like he’s starting to properly get mad now.

“Yeah!” exclaims Jack, angrily. “You fuckin’ are! If you could just let me _explain_ —”

This makes Davey instinctively take up a defensive stance, folding his arms over his chest.

“Oh, please do,” he says, and he can’t help the humourless laugh that follows. “You’ve sure got some explaining to do. Let’s start with why you thought I was one of your one-night stands that you could just ditch in the morning.”

Jack goes pale like Davey’s just struck a nerve. He hesitates long enough that Davey just keeps going.

“Or maybe, you could explain why you thought I’d believe you actually went to the gym, like that isn’t some bullshit excuse because you just didn’t want to talk to me! If you really didn’t want to talk about last night, you could’ve told me that when I woke up, and we’d pretend it never happened. You didn’t have to _leave_!”

“Davey…” says Jack, and the word comes out like he’s choking on it. “I just…”

“You just, what?” interrupts Davey, entirely enraged now. “You thought whatever the hell we did last night was just between friends? Was that your idea of bro-time, just having a laugh?” He hesitates, before exploding and saying what’s been on his mind since the beginning. “Is all of this, this whole engagement shit, just some joke to you!?”

_Because it hasn’t felt like a joke to me._

Jack looks hurt by that comment. Davey realizes he’s gone too far when Jack closes his eyes, bites his lip for a moment and just says in a small and broken voice: “Can you please stop yelling at me?”

Davey takes a step back, somewhat horrified with himself. He should’ve known how terrifying being screamed at like this must be for Jack. He should’ve known it would trigger something, somewhere within him.

“Fuck, I’m sorry…” Davey mumbles, looking down at his hands and somehow only seeing those of his ex-boyfriend from high school, the one who would grab him by the neck and yell at him until he cried. “I just… want to know, okay?” Davey can feel tears pricking at his eyes, like he hasn’t cried enough in the past few days. “I want to know what was going through your head when you asked me to do this. I want to know… why me? Why would you want to pretend to be my fucking fiancé, when you could’ve asked literally anyone else? And… _is_ it a joke to you? Are we just having fun?”

Jack takes a deep breath and wraps his arms around his own torso, like he needs a hug, but definitely not one from Davey right now.

It’s quiet for far too long, and Davey can feel his heart shattering into smaller and smaller pieces as the silence goes on. Just say it and get it over with, Jack. This was all just to have a big ol’ laugh. This was all just a joke that doesn’t really mean anything.

“ _I’m in love with you_.”

Davey’s eyes snap up to Jack, who’s staring at the floor and had spoken in such a small voice that Davey’s not sure he even heard it right.

Jack hugs himself a little tighter and takes a deep, shaky breath. He closes his eyes and swallows thickly.

“I’m so fucking in love with you, Davey,” he repeats after a moment, barely above a whisper, “and I have been for so long. I wanted you so badly… and I thought pretending for an afternoon might… I don’t know, make you notice? Or, like, just fulfill this fantasy and help me get over you, maybe. But that would never work, because I’ve been hung up on you for… _years_ now. Since we were kids, basically.”

Jack’s trembling a little and still staring at the ground. He’s obviously a wreck with anxiety, and Davey can’t blame him. It takes some serious balls to make a confession like that.

He takes a step towards Jack, and Jack flinches with his whole body, like someone’s just swung at him.

“Jack, I…” whispers Davey, trailing off. He takes another careful step forward and Jack holds still this time. “ _Jackie_ …”

Davey’s at a loss for words.

Jack loves him. Jack is in love with him. Davey is in love with Jack and Jack is in love with Davey. They’ve been in love this whole fucking time and they’ve been too stupid to realize it.

This is a moment, Davey decides, where actions speak louder than words. He takes one step closer, grabs Jack’s face, and kisses him with the passion of every dramatic kissing scene in every romantic comedy his gay ass has ever watched.

It takes Jack a second to comprehend what’s going on, but then he’s kissing back, his hands sliding around Davey’s waist to pull him close. It’s desperate, it’s needy, they’re kissing like their lives depend on it.

When they finally need to pull away to breathe, they carefully rest their foreheads together.

“I love you so much,” whispers Davey. Those angry tears that were pricking at his eyes earlier are happy ones now, falling down his cheeks. Honestly, are you really even a millennial if you don’t cry a few times a day? “Jack Kelly, I’m fucking in love with you, you asshole.”

Jack, who’s just a bit shorter than Davey, looks up at him with shiny, tearful eyes and a hopeful smile.

“Really?” he asks, like he needs to ensure he’s not dreaming. “You‘re not fucking with me?”

All Davey can do is let his face burst into a grin and then kiss Jack again, smiling into it and holding him close. Jack is his. This is his. He can kiss Jack and hold him tight and tell him every day just how fucking in love he is. And all it took was a huge argument and an entire morning of crying and moping to get them here.

It’s Jack who pulls away this time, freeing his mouth so he can talk.

“I really did go to the gym this morning,” he says, still hugging Davey. “I wasn’t gonna be able to be in the same room as you without kissing your face off. I had to go clear my head and not think about your hands all over me, and me pinning you down, and—”

Davey snorts and cuts Jack off.

“Alright, cool it, cowboy,” he says, and Jack giggles at the old nickname. “Spare me the details— at least for now. I’m just glad to know you weren’t off somewhere regretting what we did and, like, hating me for it or something,”

Jack rests his head on Davey’s shoulder, and Davey can’t see his face but he’s sure Jack is grinning stupidly.

“I could _never_ hate you, sugar.”

Davey laughs and rolls his eyes, loving this warm, tight hug they’ve still got going on.

“God, you’re a dork. Don’t call me that.”

A moment passes and Davey finally breaks the embrace when Jack giggles deviously to himself and shoots his tongue out, licking Davey’s earlobe in an entirely disgusting, not-at-all sexy way.

“Fuck off,” grumbles Davey, rubbing at his ear while Jack cracks himself up, a great display of just how easily-amused he is. Davey looks down at his watch and his eyes go wide. “ _Shit_ , we really have to go get dressed.”

And off they go, running through the halls of the hotel, holding hands and laughing, just as they had done through the streets of Manhattan on that very first day.

They’ve got a goddamn wedding to get ready for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so that happened. 
> 
> here it finally is. everyone has been begging for them to just COMMUNICATE and all it took was davey sorta losing his shit for them to get there. 
> 
> i’ve legit been planning that fight since like chapter 3 and it finally all went down and ended with a kiss :) i hope everyone enjoyed this as much as i did. 
> 
> there’s only one chapter left! and then i was thinking instead of a sequel, i might do some one shots set in this same universe because i’m in love with it and i don’t want to abandon my boys that i’ve worked so hard on making a happy ending for. also the idea of them as parents in the far future intrigues me, so that may be coming one day. 
> 
> thank you all so much for reading and for being so supportive, even the people who’ve threatened to kill me for making them cry! i love you all!


	13. you are the one, you know that it’s true

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a grand, fluffy finale. it’s been a long road, but they got here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i can’t say i ever saw myself writing a 30k fic, but here we are!! a HUGE thank you to everyone who’s been reading and commenting and kudos-ing, i appreciate you all so much!!!
> 
> no warnings for this one, just a good fluffy time!!!!
> 
> enjoy!!!

The wedding goes off without a hitch.

From the ceremony to the reception and everything in between, it's all _gorgeous_ and Davey gets to spend it with Jack at his side.

Before the ceremony, Jack and Davey end up leaving themselves about fifteen minutes to get dressed and ready after spending a good chunk of time just kissing and giggling into each other's mouths in their hotel room, too happy to do anything else.

"Davey, _help_ ," whines Jack, as they panic to throw on their suits and style their hair within the very limited timeframe. "It won't button! I'm way too stressed to know how to use cuff links right now."

Davey rolls his eyes and quickly wipes the hair gel from his hands, bouncing out of the bathroom and over to where his disaster of a _boyfriend_ — he can say that now, right?— is struggling with the sleeves of his dress shirt.

"Take a deep breath," he says, and Jack just lets out a stressed-sounding chuckle. "When did you get this suit? It's really nice."

Jack looks down at his tailored black dress pants, crisp white shirt, black tie and fitted grey blazer. Davey has to say, Jack looks _incredible_. Perks of working in the fashion industry, most likely.

"It's from when I went to Fashion Week in September," says Jack as Davey carefully clips his fancy cuff links. "We have to, like, represent the company in a certain way, so everyone who got picked to go had to get tailored and stuff, and my boss paid for all of it! It's the fanciest work uniform I've ever had."

Unable to help himself, Davey presses a quick kiss to the corner of Jack's mouth before he goes back to getting himself ready. He walks over to the closet before he can even see the blush that blossoms on Jack's cheeks.

Davey has opted to ditch the blazer today and just wear suspenders and a bowtie with his dress shirt— an outfit choice approved by Sarah and Katherine themselves. He gives himself a once-over in the mirror as he tightens his suspenders and nods, satisfied. He looks good and feels even better.

"You ready?" he asks Jack, who's now sliding on his socks and shoes. Davey sits down next to him to do the same. "I can't wait to show you off— for real, this time."

Jack snorts to himself as he ties his shoes and then shares the thought with Davey.

"Do you think we're moving too fast?" he jokes, trying to hide the nervous undertone to his words. "We've only really been together for an hour, and I'm about to meet the whole extended family."

Davey laughs and bumps shoulders with Jack.

"The whole family that thinks we're engaged," he replies. "I think we've moved about as fast as we possibly can."

They both stand up at the same time and face each other, taking in the other's appearance.

"You look beautiful-"

"You look amazing-"

They both blurt out at the same time, before dissolving into giggles.

Davey's starting to get a feeling they might've been made for each other.

 

-

 

Davey only tears up a little during the ceremony, which he considers an achievement.

They sit in the front row, with Davey's parents on one side and Les on the other. Jack keeps whispering to Les and giggling, because of course two of the most easily distracted people Davey knows would sit next to each other.

Jack, for some reason, has a tiny bag of M&Ms in his pocket, and he keeps sneaking them to Les and offering them to Davey. It's completely silly, but Davey does find himself accepting a few of them. Just like he can't say no to cake samples, he definitely can't say no to chocolate.

Sarah and Katherine look like goddesses as they come down the aisle.

Sarah goes first, accompanied by her and Davey's father, and Davey has never been more proud of his big sister. She looks like the femme-butch queen of every lesbian's dreams. Her hair is in a gorgeous curled up-do, her face is contoured and beat to the gods and she's rocking sky-high nude pumps, but she's in this fitted suit that makes her look like a total boss. Call Davey a stereotypical gay, but he is _screaming_ on the inside. His non-existent weave has been _snatched_ by his big sister's beauty.

And then there's Katherine, who seems to float down the aisle in her princess-like gown that trails behind her, holding onto her father's elbow but unable to take her eyes off of Sarah, who's waiting for her at the altar. Her hair is in flowing curls and her minimalist makeup highlights all her best features. She looks like a picture straight out of a fairytale.

"Oscar de la Renta, fall-winter of this year," whispers Jack, and it takes Davey a second to comprehend that Jack somehow knows the designer and collection of Katherine's dress after having seen it for barely even a minute. If Davey thought _he_ was being a typical gay, he's got nothing on Jack. "That dress costs more than six months worth of our rent."

The purchase was well worth it though, because the dress itself is beautiful, with elaborate beads and embroidery on the top, fading into a huge Cinderella-style skirt.

"How did you know that?" whispers Davey back, leaning into Jack so as to not be noticed talking.

"I designed a spread on New York Bridal Week a while ago," replies Jack as he sneaks another candy out of his pocket and presses it into Davey's palm. "I'm a fashion guru now."

Davey snorts a little as he tries to stifle a laugh. He notices Sarah glaring at him and fakes a cough, covering so that he can subtly eat the M&M, but upon looking at Sarah again, she _knows_.

Davey just shoots her a smile and shrugs, as if to say _you can't have expected me not to mess around._ Sarah looks at him a second longer and then smiles back in a way that could be either exasperated or fond, and Davey is fine with either.

He sticks his tongue out and she barely has time to giggle before the ceremony starts.

 

-

 

_A few hours later._

 

"Charlie! My man!"

Davey had forgotten the whole reason they'd even gotten tangled up in the fake-relationship mess. Sarah and Kath had ordered a cake from that same bakery that was offering free samples. Oh, how things have come full circle.

Jack lets go of Davey's hand and takes off running when he spots Charlie putting some final touches on the cake in the corner of the hall. Things are still being moved around and set up, and they've come down to see if any help is needed.

Jack and Davey had just been up in Sarah and Kath's room, along with their bridesmaids, some of their friends and a few of of Davey's cousins, all drinking champagne and pre-celebrating while the hall was being rearranged for the reception. Safe to say, everyone is feeling just as bubbly as the champagne they'd been drinking.

Thankfully, Charlie is hardly thrown off when Jack goes straight in for a hug, despite the fact that they barely know each other. Davey settles for a handshake when he finally makes his way over.

"You guys look like you're having fun," remarks Charlie, balancing on one of his crutches as he continues to touch up the little flower designs all over the cake. "Is it getting you excited for your big day?"

Jack and Davey share a look and it takes everything in them not to burst into giggles at the sheer ridiculousness of all this.

"Oh, absolutely," replies Davey. "We're totally—"

Before he can finish his sentence, Kath and Sarah are running over to greet Charlie and check out their cake.

"Crutchie!" squeals Kath, and Davey feels all the blood drain from his face in shock. Did she really just call him that? Isn't that, like, horribly disrespectful? He has a _disability_ and—

"Kathy!" squeals Charlie in response, throwing his arms around Katherine. Alright… apparently they know each other. Davey finds himself very relieved that Katherine didn’t just blatantly insult him, but also very confused at how Charlie could possibly be okay with the nickname.

"This is _gorgeous_ , you've totally outdone yourself," comments Sarah, looking the cake over. She turns to Davey and asks cheekily: "So, have you decided where you guys are ordering a cake from?"

"We decided after literally the first sample," says Jack, who’s got an arm comfortably around Davey’s waist. He grins at Charlie. "You are _incredible_ , man."

Charlie is blushing from all the praise and Kath pinches his cheeks with a laugh.

"We need to catch up more often,” she says to him. She suddenly gasps and laughs, smacking him on the shoulder. “Remember when we were, like, twelve, and we kept sneaking sips from people’s wine at my parents’ party? And no one could figure out how we ended up tipsy?”

Charlie lights up and joins her in laughing, and Davey grows a little more confused.

“Our moms were best friends,” says Kath after a moment, when she notices just how lost Jack and Davey are. She wraps an arm around him. “Partners in crime, right here. That’s why he made our cake so nice— he loves me!”

Charlie rolls his eyes and pushes her off with a giggle.

“It’ll be a lot nicer if you go away and let me finish decorating,” he says, shooing the group of them away. “Art doesn’t make itself.”

 

-

 

It turns out that Charlie has been seated at the same table as Jack, Davey, Spot and Race, because he hadn’t brought a plus-one and there’s five chairs to a table. Apparently Katherine had decided that Charlie would get along with the boys and insisted on seating them all together.

She’s right. They get along tremendously.

"No, all my friends really do call me Crutchie!" says Charlie, as they sip wine and snack on appetizers. "I mean, it's just an obvious trait about me, so it makes an easy nickname! I swear, it's totally fine!"

This makes Spot clap him on the shoulder and laugh.

"I _love_ this guy!" he says. "That's the attitude I'm talking about! _Crutchie_ is way more badass than _Spot_!"

Race rolls his eyes and launches a little cube of cheese at Spot, because this is clearly a table full of mature, respectful wedding guests.

"At least yours makes sense, freckle-face," he whines. "Do you know how often I have to explain that I was just good at track and field in high school? What the hell kind of nickname is _Racetrack_?"

Davey and Jack high-five each other, the lucky few who made it this far in life without stupid nicknames following them everywhere. Unfortunately, their moment of pride doesn't last.

"Cowboy, Mouth," says Spot dryly, pointing at each of them. "Shut up."

Crutchie cracks up at the idea of Davey being called _Mouth_ , and from then until when dinner is actually served, the conversation manages to devolve into a roast session for poor Davey— the worst of it being when they reminisce about the horrible haircut he’d had in his freshman year of college. Jack manages to pull out pictures and everything, making Davey threaten to go sit with his parents instead.

“ _No_ ,” whines Jack, grabbing onto Davey’s arm as he stands up to leave. “Stay here, I’m sorry! I love you!”

Davey freezes. It’s not like Jack has never said _I love you_ ; they’ve been best friends for ages. And he’s just being silly anyways, they’re goofing around.

But, wow. Jack loves him. That’s really something, isn’t it?

Davey sighs exasperatedly and sits back down at the table, in what he considers an impressive recovery.

“I love you too,” he says, “but you’re a _jackass_ sometimes.”

 

-

 

All in all, it’s an incredible night.

They dance, and they drink, and all of Davey’s relatives do their best to embarrass him when they meet Jack— but it’s useless because Jack already knows everything embarrassing about Davey.

Things start to wind down eventually: anyone with young kids starts to leave, the same with any older relatives. The DJ switches to playing mostly slower songs as everyone starts to get a bit tired.

By the very end, Jack and Davey are swaying together on the dance floor, completely wrapped up in their own little bubble. There’s an Ed Sheeran song playing through the speakers, and Jack rests his head on Davey’s chest.

“I’m really happy,” he mumbles, and Davey can’t see his face, but he knows he’s smiling. “You make me really happy.”

Davey can’t help the smile that stretches on his face as they slow-dance.

“Yeah,” replies Davey after a while, squeezing a little where he has a hand on Jack’s waist. “You make me really happy too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that’s the end. 
> 
> this story has been a wild ride to write, but i’ve thoroughly enjoyed it! this feels like saying goodbye to my child, i’ve spent a good two months with these characters and i don’t want their story to be over!
> 
> i don’t know if i plan on making a full-blown sequel, but i am planning on some one-shots and stuff in this same universe, so keep an eye out for those if you’d like!
> 
> thank you SO SO SO MUCH for reading!!! i’d love to see some comments on how it’s been seeing this all come together!!!
> 
> side note: if stupid newsies memes are your cup of tea, that’s about all i do on tumblr— come say hi at @thefactsofthematter!


End file.
